Someone asked me what Baeron looked like if I had to resemble him to anyone. In my mind, he looked a lot like Brad Pitt. Actually that was strange, because I am not a swooning fan of his. But no matter what, there is no denying his beauty as a human being. And I found his looks fitting for Baeron's humor and smooth attractiveness. And.it may be helpful to understand why anyone would have such a hard time refusing him, I suppose. Ha ha.

Other than that - thank you so much for the support! I received incredible reviews and amazing personal mails regarding this story. I am humbled to know that I have -no matter how slightly- managed to touch this or that person's life. No words could express my awe and bafflement. Therefore, I will not try.

***

She cried all the way to Spain - sometimes sobbing silently, sometimes just shedding tears and in between, taking deep breaths and gathering strength for the new crying episode. The sadness in her heart seemed to grow with the distance between herself and Legolas. Momentarily it occurred to her that she was acting rather changed compared to her former ways. Here she was, on a PLANE (and God knows how much she disliked these things!) going to MADRID to meet BAERON! At a time when she had to be back for work in New York! It was very un-Irulan-like indeed! She took a deep breath and sipped a little from her wine. Yes, she was having that damnable wine again! 'Who cares! I can drink all I want!' she snorted and took a bigger gulp.

In Madrid she already felt a little drunk and better for it. Sighing heavily and lacking her usual enthusiasm for being in a new city, she walked out of the plane, through the corridors and to her amazement, right into Baeron's arms! Irulan blinked with surprise as he embraced her stronger and placed a kiss on her forehead before he pulled her back to take an overall look. "Thank the Valar!" he sighed and embraced her again.

"When did you arrive?" she mumbled into his chest, finding that to be the only thing to say at the moment.

"About an hour ago. I found a flight immediately."

She relaxed then and sank into his chest, allowing him to caress her back gently. To her dismay, she felt like crying again and swallowed hard to suppress the temptation. Nevertheless, Baeron sensed her agony and continued his soothing comments for a few more minutes. A second time he pulled her away by the shoulders, giving her face a long look. Irulan tried to smile at him while she wiped the future tears off her eyes. "I must look a mess!" she said, laughing softly.

"You look like someone who wants to look like a mess...but fails terribly," was his gentle and slightly amused reply, accompanied by a slow smile. Irulan laughed somewhat louder and he cupped her face, locking his hazel eyes with hers. "Come," was the only statement and she obeyed it willingly, letting the elf grasp her hand and pull her away from her past.

***

They did not speak in the cab, nor at the hotel. Only when they received the key to their room and were finally in its confinement did he become solemn again. He threw his jacket on the armchair to approach and stand before Irulan, his fingers gently caressing her cheek. "Now," he said with peculiar calmness and determination, "you must tell me what happened."

She nodded and followed his example, shedding her jacket. She sank into one of the large green and comfy armchairs and Baeron took the one across from hers, sitting erect and alert. "I feel kind of bad now," she sighed and bit her lower lip. "I mean...it seems foolish now...it's nothing terrible. And you came all the way from…"

"Forget about that," he said in a dismissive tone. "I would have come just to say hello. And something that made you cry like this MUST be terrible," was the slow addition.

She nodded, casting her eyes down. Baeron's fingers laced with hers. "Go on. You can tell me anything, Irulan."

"I know," was the quiet reply, but she did not meet his heavy gaze. With one final breath, she began her story. Beginning with her arrival in England and the reason for it. Then her rather disappointing meeting with Legolas. And afterwards their annoying exchange which ended with her being dragged to the trip. An overall summary of their relationship followed and included the pledge - though not the reason for it. The tale ended with her discovery and her leaving. As she spoke out the whole experience, once again the anguish slowly faded into anger. Not to mention, shame. She felt stupid. And very naive. And most of all - betrayed.

"So I called you," she sighed after almost an hour during which Baeron had not spoken a single word. The late afternoon sun had grown dull and a dimness had set in. Many hours had passed since she left England and Legolas must have been very aware of her departure by now.

The elf did not say anything for another string of minutes, continuing to caress her fingers with his and looking at the carpet. So long, but yet so calming was the silence, that she momentarily forgot that he would reply at all and delved into the thoughts of her own recollections. "Irulan," he began cautiously then, waking her up, "are you certain that you made the right choice?"

"What do you mean?" she asked timidly.

He gave her a long look and placed his elbows on his knees. "No one is perfect. Neither are elves. You should not expect more from Lord Legolas."

Her lips pressed into a thin line at that and her brown eyes began to cinder with a slow fury. "I don't expect perfection!"

"He made a mistake, nobody -including himself- disagrees on that," Baeron continued gently. "But no mistake should be unforgivable. You are more generous than that."

"ONE mistake?!" She gave him a disbelieving look. "He did not tell me about it ALL that time! Days, Baeron! AND he allowed me to make the pledge. STILL not revealing it! AND he took me as a lover. STILL not…-"

"All right," Baeron said, the left side of his lips curving up, "he made several. But at that point he would have done anything not to risk losing you. Which action, by the way, I understand completely."

Her mouth dropped open and she stared at him, at a loss of words. Baeron waited and watched her expression slowly melting into fury as Irulan tried to retrieve her hand from his. He folded his other hand on it as well then and chuckled, shaking his head. "I know that you will disagree. But I find his test with the Circle no mistake. Similar tests have been performed on almost all candidates of important positions throughout history - rulers, applicants to certain orders, groups and cults of any and every nature. EVERY person is tested for this or that all their lives, are they not? Your schools today test you before you can continue with your education, no?" When Irulan scoffed and looked away, he continued gently: "As a matter of fact, they are performed on all human members of the Circle, you know that. The descendants of your line are the only exception." She did not meet his gaze, staring at the carpet and thinking how damn convincing he sounded. "You should not fear a test anyway. You have it in you to pass all. As you have in this case," Baeron finished softly.

"I was played with, not tested!" she spat finally.

"Tests of silent and secret nature are not uncommon, either. For them not to warn you was no sign of a game, Irulan. It only guarantees honesty on behalf of the subject."

"Baeron! I mean...SEDUCE me?!"

This time his laughter rang freely in the room and she jumped slightly, gazing at him with deep surprise at the sound of it. "Now that," he said, laughing harder, "is truly far more eccentric than what I would expect from Lord Legolas!" His laughter only increased further when she tried to pry off her hand in anger again.

After moments of struggle she gave up and huffed to sit back on the armchair, annoyed but also very pleased at the relieving sound of his joy. It ceased then and to her surprise, he kissed her hand. She could not help turning to glance at him with that action and realizing how majestic Baeron looked. Despite the fact that he was only her friend, she felt her heart beating stronger when his sparkling eyes focused on her.

"Lovely Irulan," he said finally, cocking his head slightly to the right, "I see nothing unforgivable here. I understand your hurt and your anger. And yes, perhaps you should give yourself some time. However, eventually your road seems obvious to me."

"No!" she said stiffly. "I am free not to walk that road! I am not a toy of Fate!"

"Alas, we are ALL toys of Fate," he said slowly, as if speaking to a child.

"What I mean is..." She exhaled in frustration and massaged her face before she continued: "I need time. I need to think." She looked up to see him observing her in concentration. "Do not ask me to be wise and mature now." He smiled a sad smile and she rolled her eyes. "Or ever, for that matter!" Baeron chuckled then, caressing her hand once more. "Maybe we have no say in the flow of things once they are set in motion," Irulan sighed and caressed her chin with the back of her free hand, gazing unconsciously out the window to the bluish Madrid sky. "But I believe that every now and then we are given the luxury of choice. Of…a crossroad." She sighed and glanced back at him, as he sat silent and attentive in his chair. "It is true that I love Legolas. But…I am not a woman to throw away all for a sentiment, Baeron. I need other things as well."

He kissed her hand again, his manner warm and supportive. "You think I do not, but I understand, my friend. Love is a large palette. There are many colors and hues to it." She smiled a tired but relieved smile at him and he returned it, his eyes twinkling. "Are you at a crossroad, Irulan?" came his soft and cautious question, many minutes later.

"Yes. Or I like to think that I am." She glanced at him, but his expression was unreadable and since he did not reply, she decided to continue: "I want to think that I retraced my steps on this path and that I still have the option to choose. To choose…to be with Legolas…or not."

Being no expert in reading elven expressions, Irulan had no chance of seeing the swift twinkle of hope traveling through his eyes. His fingers gently squeezed hers and, taking that as a sign of support, she strengthened her grasp as well. A deep silence set in between them as the darkness descended slowly on Madrid. "He will come after you," Baeron said finally, his voice low but very audible in the room.

"Can he find me?"

"In a heartbeat."

She swallowed softly. "I don't want to put you in a position of...I mean..."

"I will not lie to Lord Legolas," he said with determination. "Or to anyone else, for that matter. What should I tell him, Irulan?"

"Tell him that I am an independent woman and that I can do whatever the hell I want, damn it!" she groaned, throwing up her hand.

Baeron tried hard not to grin. "Irulan," he said with mock alarm, "Please don't be ridiculous. The statement 'independent woman' is an oxymoron! There can be no such thing!"

She gave him a sheepish look as his teeth glittered in the dim light. "Very funny, Baeron."

"I must urge you to stop this madness," he mused, grinning even broader, "and return into the arms of your man this very minute!"

"Oh stop it!" she grunted, massaging her face.

"Why…he is handsome. Rich. Well-mannered. He will never grow bald, that's for sure. Or gain a belly." Irulan rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched and he saw it. "Listen to me, my dear friend…" with that, he leaned forward, her hand still in his steely grasp, his eyes reflecting mock seriousness, "…to kindle the passion with such escapades is very wise. But…I think it is time that I guide you back to your lord and master. Before you get lost in this big, bad world."

"Enough already, Baeron!" she yelped despite herself, not knowing if she should smack him on the head or release the laughter building up in her. "I need a friend right now! Not a mother, thank you very much!"

The sneer on his visage became only wider at that. "Really?" he drawled, sighing with regret. "Pity. Everybody knows that I can be such a good mother."

Irulan's mouth twisted and she pursed her lips. She wanted to be angry, damn it! But it was futile - he lifted her spirits as easily as grasping her hand and pulling her up from a chair. She bit her lip to keep in the laughter as the elf gave her a long, amused look, then broke out into gentle chuckles, shaking his head. "You have a friend in me, Irulan," he said as his expression gained a slightly serious hue to it. "And...whatever else you seek," was the almost inaudible addition before he continued with a stronger voice. "You need time. I will buy you that time." He leaned forward, finding her hand again and entwining his fingers with hers. "From now on you are my responsibility...and under my protection."

She shifted a little on her chair at his unexpected intensity. "Well...thank you. But you make it sound so...serious," she chuckled nervously.

He grinned again, but this time the amusement did not reach his eyes. "Avoiding Lord Legolas is very serious business," was his late reply. Irulan pursed her lips, feeling even more uncomfortable and not certain if he was joking or not.

Just when she was about to ask him how serious this sort of thing could be, his cell phone rang and she jumped in her seat as her hand flew out to her heart. She had not turned hers on after departing the plane and to hear the sound of a phone was very unexpected. They stared at each other for several moments and neither dared to blink. "It's him," she exhaled with fear.

"Yes," he said blankly, almost leisurely. And yet, he did not make a move to answer it, remaining focused on her instead.

"You have my answer," she said with more determination.

Only then did he nod, gave her an assuring smile, and took the phone, checking the number. "Yes?"

"Baeron," came the Prince's voice that spoke of suppressed alarm. "It's me. Has Irulan called you?"

"She has. She is in Madrid..."

Legolas cut in smoothly "I know that. I traced her credit card."

"...as am I," finished Baeron with caution.

He watched her tilt back in her armchair, gliding into the shadows in the darkened room, though of course Baeron could still see her easily enough. Her fingers dug unconsciously into the fabric and a sharp tenseness was emanating from her. There was complete silence for a moment. And when Legolas spoke again, his tone had changed from worried to dangerous: "Where is she, Baeron?"

"She is with me," he sighed after a short silence.

"I understand that," growled Legolas the threat becoming more evident, "I asked WHERE in Madrid she is."

"And I said she is with ME, my Lord," responded the other elf then, very calmly shifting the emphasis.

It caused an incredible silence on behalf of Legolas, and Baeron listened with deep regret as the other elf's world crumbled wordlessly. He loved Legolas more than anything. But...Irulan had made her choice. She was under his protection now. He would defend her to the very end.

Legolas and Haldir stared at each other, the shock on their faces so evident that Anne jumped to her feet and unconsciously began to bite her nails. Both men instantly knew that it was true - for no elf would lie. Baeron would probably die sooner than lie to Legolas anyway. "Baeron...I am warning you. Don't you dare touch her!" Legolas hissed finally. His whole body was being torn into little pieces and he literally had to lean onto the counter to keep from trembling.

"Believe me, I tried to persuade her otherwise. But she chose my company."

Haldir grasped his shoulder in alarm but Legolas did not feel it. A very long moment passed as both elves tried to keep their calmness and their balance while Irulan, Haldir and Anne watched both elves anxiously. "Even you are not foolish enough to attempt such a thing," the Prince said finally, shifting to stand a little more erect and his voice gaining a forced determination. "Spare her the torture before it gets out of control."

Baeron sighed with the reaction of someone who was expecting this. "She made a choice and I will respect that."

"She is upset! And rightly so! But her feelings will change once her mind has cooled down, you know this."

"I know that she is confused and disappointed. But it takes nothing from her wisdom. I will not treat her like some child."

Legolas banged his free fist on the counter so hard, it actually broke in. Anne gazed at the hole on the wooden surface with horror, but neither Haldir, nor the Prince gave any indication of even noticing the act. "TELL ME WHERE YOU ARE!"

"I'm afraid I can not do that, my Lord," was his calm reply. "I'm not planning to stay here long anyway. We will leave once she is rested - and she looks very much in need of it."

The other elf swallowed at that. "I want to speak to her," he whispered finally.

Baeron held the device to Irulan and she shook her head slowly, looking away. He bit his lower lip and hesitated momentarily. "She will call you later, Legolas," was his final and kind reply - it was far better than saying that she refused to speak to him.

If given the chance, Legolas would begin to cry right there and then. Out of sheer desperation. Thankfully elven control prevented outbursts of that nature. "Is she well?" he said instead, swallowing hard.

"She will be better tomorrow."

He pursed his lips at the evasive answer. So she was not well! Damn his own stupid, stupid ways! Damn his weakness that had brought them to this point! "Baeron, stop this madness before it begins. She is mine and you know that."

He hesitated for a moment. "I think she disagrees, Legolas." Baeron heard the other elf grinding his teeth and waited before he added, "She came to me, seeking my help. I will not turn her away. Not even for you, my lord. Do as you must. I will do the same."

There was a long pause. So long as only to be considered natural for the elves and most unnatural for both Anne and Irulan, who swallowed and squirmed with impatience. The tenseness seemed to rise further and further and only after several moments reached a standstill. Baeron had made his decision already. When the Prince reached his own, a cold and brisk chill replaced the friction. Legolas chose to break the silence and his voice was blank and cold again.

"I have Shared with her yesterday. She is fragile and weak."

Baeron blinked and glanced at Irulan for a moment. "I see. I will take care of her."

Legolas exhaled and dug his fingers into the phone, closing his eyes. He did not know what to feel - should he feel relieved of that fact or frustrated because of it? "I will come for her," was his final and rather cold statement.

"I know," Baeron said with almost a tired tone. "Until then, Legolas. Goodbye." He turned off the phone, placing it on his temple and giving Irulan a long look. She stared back with much unease. "You must be hungry," he said a while later. "Let us eat."

The room was very dark now and Irulan could only see his stance, not his expression. "I am not," she murmured, entwining her fingers nervously.

His hand cupped her chin, forcing her face up to him. His features were invisible to him in this poor light, but she thought she spotted a gentle and caring smile crawl up his lips. "*I* feel hungry," he said softly. "Will you come for my sake, then?"

What an adorable, gentle and mature elf this was! Irulan smiled as well, nodding to herself as her eyes strained to see him better. "Of course," was her hoarse whisper of a reply. His hand found hers before he pulled her up once more. It felt almost as if he had pulled her up from the whole dread and the darkness of her current mood. 'Elves!' she thought distantly as she strode out of the room in silence, his pull guiding her on, 'So ethereal their touch on us, and yet so prominent the mark.'

***

Baeron took her to a nice, cozy place. Nothing fancy like some of the places Legolas had taken her. It was the combination of inn-restaurant-bar. Dim, warm and alluring. He was greeted with enthusiasm, but not with the formal admiration that Legolas usually received. The reaction to him was far more humane - laughter, friendly claps on the shoulder or even embraces. He replied in the same fashion, smiling and laughing all the time and receiving sincere joy in return. They were guided to a secluded booth that held a round bench with pillows that encircled the small round table.

The elf ordered in Spanish and Irulan just gulped down the first thing that arrived - which happened to be tequila on the house. He gently removed the glass from her hand and told the waiter that they wished no further drinks for the night.

"I think we should not drink for a while," he said in English then, turning to her. She merely nodded, pursing her lips, and stared down to her plate. She felt Baeron taking her hand and looked up to meet his beautiful hazel gaze. "It will pass, Irulan. Everything passes. Just let it go."

She nodded again, feeling broken, confused and bitter. Not to mention, about to cry. AGAIN! He cupped his chin, placing his elbow on the table as his other hand kept caressing her fingers. "Will you come with me?" was the gentle question, many moments later. "To the tundras of China? And the plains of Kenya? And the frozen lakes of Finland?"

Irulan smiled in return. Though she would love to travel with Baeron some day, this day she was not really ready to make gleeful future plans while her unsolved problems seemed to become more complicated by the hour. "I hope so. Some day," was her quiet reply. Baeron nodded and smiled with deft encouragement. Again discomfort along with relief washed over her when he pulled her hand up for a kiss. Both were aware that it only reminded her of Legolas, but both were eager to wipe that memory away, so neither said a word. "Where is your home?" was her question, a moment later.

"This whole world is my home."

Irulan cocked her head and gave him a long look. Elves were very settled creatures. Even though they traveled a lot and the circumstances forced them to switch homes every decade or so, they still stubbornly clung to their settlements and tried to make it as comfortable as possibly. No elf, for instance, would enjoy living in hotel rooms all his life. They were attached creatures in nature and preferred to buy houses they could decorate to their own taste and liking and thereby give a homey air. "No...I mean...you have no estates?"

He sighed and massaged his neck. "I have several. But…I don't stay too long in them. I mostly use them like depots...attics to store the items I have come to treasure and like."

"So you just...you always travel?"

Baeron sighed and leaned in on the table once more. "I am a Scout. My work demands me to travel often. But those are short term trips. Even after they are completed...I...remain on the road. Yes, I always travel." He smiled slowly at her surprise. "They call it 'wanderlust'. I have caught the disease many millennia ago. Sure, there I places I like and remain for a while. And that 'while' might be long in human standards...but...eventually the wanderlust boils my blood. And I leave."

She nodded, intrigued and curious by his uniqueness. The more she came to know Baeron, the more she admired him and felt closer to him. 'Maybe because he is so much more…human,' she thought as her eyes held his. Indeed - Baeron had all the incredible attributes of an elf, but none of their common overwhelming and awe-inspiring aura. He was so easy to approach and so easy to grow used to! She sighed, still unconsciously inspecting his handsome features while he let her do so in silence. 'This is a dangerous man,' she thought with sly amusement. 'For it is impossible to hate him.'

Their food arrived then, but neither made an attempt to eat. There was a comforting music in the background and she felt herself relaxing a little. The nerves that had been too worked up and tense for hours now, refused to keep up with that marathon and slowly began to loosen up. Baeron observed this and smiled deftly. "Are you ready now?"

She blinked. "For what?" was her amused question.

He sighed and pursed his lips. "I told Lord Legolas that you would call him back."

Her eyes widened with disbelief and her face fell immediately. Baeron remained unreadable. "Yes but…NOW?!"

"Why not?" was his lofty question.

"I don't want to!" she said with childish fear.

Baeron sighed again and took her hand. "He is concerned for you. Don't you owe him this much, Irulan?"

Irulan huffed and looked away, feeling herself backed into a corner. "I don't owe him anything!" she flung with desperation. The truth was, there was a slight shame ringing in her with the idea of confronting Legolas. He had lied to her. He had manipulated and steered her. And on top of it all, he had tried to imprison her! Nevertheless, the intimacy between them refused these as excuses. Her bond with Baeron was strong. But it was nothing compared to her bond with Legolas. Even this moment the ties that bound her to him were pulling mercilessly, hurting her very heart. And she knew that if she was capable of perceiving this much, the elf must be in torturous pain, for he was far more sensitive in nature. It was like a distant song, refusing to die out. A call…a maddening longing. She would not turn and face it, but that took nothing from its strength, as it bit her, pinched her, shoved her again and again, reminding her of its presence. Reminding her of a night of frightening pain and utmost pleasure. Who was a mere mortal woman like Irulan, in the face of such a mighty thing?

"Call him," Baeron interrupted with a gentle tone. Irulan pursed her lips and shook her head, her eyes fixed on the glass of water in her grip. Elves! Their morals and principles would always remain strange to her. The closest she could define them would be Japanese samurai. The kind that would offer you tea before a deadly duel and take care of your family if you happened to be the one to die that day. Against their rather hostile relationship at the moment, neither Baeron, nor Legolas seemed to take that as a reason to be disrespectful and cruel to each other. "Very well," he sighed, "Then I should call him and tell him that he should not wait." Though she tried to prevent it, her head snapped up at that and the hazel eyes stared back at her with a matter-of-fact blankness.

He fished out his phone with disinterest and Irulan swallowed, his eyes glued to him. Baeron leisurely dialed a number and placed the item to his ear, his gaze heavy on her. "This is Adam Greymane. Is Lord Greenleaf present?" Irulan squirmed in her seat, but remained still. A moment passed. Then another as she bit her lower lip and waited. "Yes I am waiting," he said and did not divert his eyes from her. "It will break his heart, no doubt," he said in a lazy tone to her, then, "But…if a few words are too much to utter for you…well then I guess his heart must break."

Irulan gave him a very nasty glare as her heart was beating madly and as pathetic as it was, she wished that Legolas had left the castle and was not available. "It is me, Legolas," he said a moment later and shattered her hope in the matter. She groaned despite herself and locked eyes with him once more. Baeron obviously had no sense of discomfort, for he remained silently staring at her, a lofty and questioning expression on his face. Irulan was no competition for elves. Never would be. At least she was smart enough to see this. She pursed her lips in anger and held out her hand, her eyes fixed on her water glass once more.

She did not see him smiling with victory. "Irulan wishes to speak with you," was all he said before he gave her the phone and Irulan hesitated for a moment before she tentatively reached out and took it from him. Baeron smiled with assurance, then respectfully got up and left the table, walking towards the bar. She watched him shaking hands with an enthusiastic barman and sitting on a stool to engage in a warm conversation. A moment later she glanced back at the phone in her hand that had begun to tremble a little and took a deep breath before she found the courage to place it on her ear.

She said nothing but Legolas must have heard it brushing against her cheek and did not wait for her to speak up. "It has been too long," he said with a breath of relief. "I missed you dearly. Speak to me."

She waited again, then took a shaky breath. "I...am sorry to leave that way, Legolas. You gave me no other option." To her utter demise she sounded weak and sad to her own ears and that made her lose a great chunk of confidence.

"I understand," came his soothing reply. Irulan relaxed a little and only then realized that in part, she had been expecting the angry Legolas that she had confronted in the Paris hotel room to pick up the phone. "Do not dwell on it. I was worried for your safety and I know now that you are well." Irulan pursed her lips and swallowed hard, getting ready for the nasty part of the conversation. It was very hard when he was being this overwhelmingly nice. And when her heart screamed for her to tell him to come and pick her up. Her eyes glided to Baeron who was sitting at the bar, still speaking to the man. "Return to me," Legolas whispered then and it was filled with so much emotion, that Irulan flinched, feeling him almost beside her. "I cannot bear this. You MUST return!"

"Legolas," she managed to choke out, "I cannot."

"Then I will come to you," was the reply, somewhat more determined.

"You mustn't," she whispered, closing her eyes and massaging her face. "Please...let it go. I have called to ask you one thing alone - let me go, Legolas."

Legolas took a sharp breath, her words embedding themselves into his heart like poisoned arrows. "Tell me that you feel nothing for me, and I shall do so," he whispered, almost in agony.

That was easy! She could just say the words, there was nothing to that! The funny part was -or maybe not so funny part- they would not come out! She opened her mouth several times, then closed it with both surprise and irritation. He waited patiently while she struggled and wrestled and boxed with herself, then finally gave up on it. "That would be a lie. And we have lied enough to each other," she finished, her annoyance open in her voice.

"I have been weak," he continued then, slowly allowing himself to sink down on the armchair from his tense pose. "But is your punishment fair, Irulan? Will you end all for this foolish action of mine?"

"I am not punishing you!" she groaned in reply, overly annoyed by the way things were going. Why was it so hard to achieve something with these stupid elves?! "This is not about you. This is about me. I...need to think. I need time. And you never granted me any!" Legolas said nothing and finally having broken the dam, she continued: "I am so…upside down! Everything has happened so fast. I need to be alone."

"But you are not alone," he growled a moment later and her eyes flew open at the terrible, dark, lethal tone.

"Look," she sighed with impatience, "*I* came to Baeron. Because he was the only one who has not betrayed me..."

"I have not betrayed you!" he cut in, both terrified and somewhat angry. She opened her mouth to object, but he did not give her the chance. "Irulan," he growled and pinched the bridge of his nose, giving himself a moment, "I am no God. I am no angel. I am only a man and never have I claimed perfection. No matter how right or 'civilized' it may seem for you, I will NOT sit back and allow Baeron to take you. Never!" He took a deep breath, forcing his emotions to still. "Return to me and for your sake, I promise not to harm him."

She remained agape and utterly confused. Baeron TAKING her?! Legolas HARMING him?! The words echoed in her head, but found no meaning. They were simply too absurd to fit into the current context. Sure, Legolas was a bit of a jealous elf. He had shown that often enough in the past. But certainly he did not mean what he was actually saying. Right?!

As her silence prevailed, he decided to continue once more, and his voice broke her bafflement: "It was never my intention to hurt you, my love," he sighed. "But if it will make you better...hurt me in return, Irulan. I don't know what else to say to you. I regret my deeds dearly. I am ready to do anything for forgiveness. Tell me what else you ask of me."

"I ask for time and distance, Legolas," she managed to say.

"You shall have it all," he said, almost gently. "Return to me and you can have it all. If you wish, we can go back to New York. But..." -and the tone that followed was woven with danger and threat- "...but do NOT ask me to tolerate your escapade to Baeron! I cannot, Irulan," A moment later he added in a low voice, "I will not.".

"You stupid elves!" she seethed, despite herself. "I wish I had never mingled with your kind! You are all stubborn fools!"

Legolas sighed, trying to gather his logic back. It was hard to argue with mortals when they were so childish. Hard to make them see what one could only see in millennia. Irulan was like a little child insisting to walk across the crowded highway. And it was not her fault - she did not know the danger and neither did she understand that her capabilities of avoiding it were simply not sufficient. "I don't expect you to understand," he said then with a low voice. "You do not see the world with our eyes. You must trust me, Irulan. Trust that I only want what is good and right for you. For us to be together is RIGHT. For me, as well as for you. You may not believe it to be so now, and there is no proof I can offer in its favor. But if you trust me, you will give it a chance and see so for yourself."

"Trust is a tender thing," Irulan said coldly.

Legolas had nothing to say in return and shut his mouth. Irulan took a deep breath. Her eyes swayed to Baeron once more, who was sitting at the bar, playing with his drinking glass, his eyes fixed to it. Maybe a love like the one between herself and Legolas was too strong. Too destructive. The price was too high. "I will go with Baeron," she said finally. She had no way of knowing what that meant, of course. For she had no idea of the dreadful past that hung between these men. Therefore, it was spoken with calm certainty on her behalf. "I can not explain it. It is not a punishment, please don't think of it that way."

Legolas was silent for a long moment. "Irulan," he said and he sounded like a different man altogether. "If you will put a blade through my heart, you will do it to my face." She swallowed softly at his tone that had gone once from soft and gentle to determined and unrelenting. "I think I deserve that much."

"Legolas, please…," she tried against all odds.

"No, my love," he cut her off. "I will come for you and I will find you. Then you can finish this once and for all and we can both rest." Irulan remained speechless. Was he actually serious? What was he hinting at? Surely he was not expecting her to actually...kill him or anything? This was all some elvish, metaphorical speech. Right? RIGHT?!

"Don't come!" she whispered in alarm. "Don't come! Something terrible will happen if you come!" Her eyes locked with those of Baeron and the elf held it. A strange, prophetic feeling came over her and she did not like it a bit.

"If that is what must happen, then let it happen," was his quiet answer.

Baeron slid off his stool and began to walk towards the table. "Legolas," she began once more, her heart beating a frantic rhythm, "I acted cowardly. And never before have I run from my mistakes. But...I will fix it. I need time and...and eventually we can...I mean I'll come back and we'll talk."

"I would have agreed to that if you had chosen to be alone. But you chose Baeron. I will not sit aside and watch you walk that path. I will not wait for the inevitable - for you to end up as his lover."

"Nothing is happening between us!" she yelped with disbelief, shocked at such a suggestion.

"Yet," Legolas growled. If Irulan was smart, he was a genius and he knew both elven and human ways too well. "He will court you. And he will take you, Irulan. And I can not blame him for doing so. But I can prevent him and prevent him I will."

Irulan swallowed as something dark and very unwelcome cackled with sly laughter and stirred awake in her. 'Oh such innocence!' it taunted as she remained completely still, fervently hoping for it to wither and die. 'As if you have never known of his interest in you, dear Irulan! Didn't he give you the napkin with the phone numbers and expressed his liking on the very first day you met?' She swallowed again, but it didn't even slow down the greasy voice. 'And have you not called him at those numbers?' It did not speak for a moment, then continued slyly, 'Deny as you will, my dear. But that MEANS something. Oh yes…a month or a year might seem a long time to you. But it's nothing to an elf. Baeron will wait patiently for you, dear Irulan. He will wait…and wait…and wait. And just when you think he will keep on waiting, one day he will begin to court you. And we both know very well how good you are in resisting that elven courting!'

"Please don't come," she whispered, now more afraid than ever.

"You chose your way and took your step," he said, his voice blank determination now. "It is my turn now. I will come for you, if I have to burn a scar through this world to do so. If it will be the last thing I do, I will still come for you." Irulan gulped audibly as Baeron arrived at the table and sank into his seat, his eyes glued to hers. She hastily turned off the phone as if that would turn of the alarm in her head as well.

His hands grasped her trembling ones and stilled them. Irulan looked up to his comforting gaze and he remained locked to her. "I am afraid," she whispered.

"No fears," he said gently, gliding his palm down her cheek and cupping her neck. "Every storm comes and passes." She did not see it coming but a moment later his lips were on hers and he was kissing her. Irulan was too shocked to grasp that it was even happening for the first few seconds and once she came to understand it, she realized many things at once - for one thing, she felt afraid. No elf should do such a bold thing without consent and she was pretty sure that she had not given consent for a kiss. And yet, here he was, his hand preventing her from breaking off, his tongue gliding over her lips. Then there was a great and sudden guilt that landed like a slap on her face. If Irulan had any sense at all, she would realize that her heart had a mind of its own and had decided that she belonged to Legolas and Legolas alone. That her sentiments of guilt and shame were due to the fact that she wanted Legolas and Legolas only and that any other man would have woken the same brutal reaction in her. But...there was the third factor - which was pleasure. It would be wrong to blame Irulan for feeling it, because any woman would have felt it at the kiss of an elf. There was simply no salvation from something like that - it was a divine gift and it evoked a pleasure that was as natural as the heat of fire or the liquidity of water.

Just when the thought of returning the kiss slid into her brain like a sly serpent, her hands flew up to his chest and she hastily pushed herself away, gasping for breath. His hand on her neck prevented her from further retrieval as his thumb caressed her cheek with lazy circles. After sharply inhaling a few times, she found the courage to look up and their gazes collided. Strange as it might seem, it was like the collision of two different worlds. Male meeting female. Elf meeting human. Strong meeting fragile. Raw meeting intricate.

Again she tried to pry herself off, but his hold was steel and she stilled her actions, swallowing softly. "W-what are you..." she began with a delirious whisper, but his calm voice cut her off: "You taste exquisite." She stared at him agape, completely caught off-guard by his boldness. And of her own excitement in the face of it! He exhaled softly and his hand on her waist pulled her closer with a single, easy motion. Irulan gasped again and tried to prevent gliding closer by placing her palm on his chest and pushing away. "You taste of the past," he whispered on, very unaffected by her action. He kissed her again, this time shorter and more tender. Her protests were lost in his mouth and before she could continue, he drew back once more, meeting her eyes. "Such longing it invokes me!"

"Baeron st-…"

He kissed her again, with a mixture of passion and gentleness. "I can give you so much...so much, Irulan!" he sighed. "All you have to do is ask."

An incredible desire washed over her. His desire. Of sharing the world with her. Of giving his soul and love to her. A desperate need to be with her - to love again. To hope again. An accumulated and potent potential pulsed out of Baeron and it was as intense as anything could be. Like an unborn child, that had found no opportunity to leave, it came with the agony, the tormenting need to be freed.

"Please...," she whispered, closing her eyes and stubbornly trying to push herself away. "Please...I can't breathe!"

With the same suddenness they had come, the feelings disappeared as his elven shield covered them like a cloak. She felt him embracing her and burying his face into her neck. A long moment passed and it was his regret that washed up to the shore of her mind this time. Of his genuine care for her. And his own loneliness and helplessness. His struggle to remain strong when he had lost the reason to be so. 'I will go mad at this pace!' she thought, embracing him back, feeling like crying and laughing at the same time. "Forgive me," he mumbled, embracing her stronger yet and almost knocking the breath out of her with his unconscious strength. "I am lost to myself."

She gently stroked his back and ran her fingers through his hair. No doubt that they must look very strange at this moment - probably believed to be drunk. "It's all right. Every storm comes and passes," she repeated his own words to her with a whisper.

"Let me hold on to you, until it does," he said, almost in pleading. "I fear that it will rip off my roots for good."

Irulan froze momentarily at that. Never before had she heard of an elf that showed his weakness. And only when she saw it, did she understand how hard it must be for them to be the ever wise, strong, mature, just, objective ones. Legolas was right - they were no angels. And not perfect. And yet...they were forced to be so or at least to pretend, year in and year out. Millennia over millennia. They were creatures carrying the ugliness of humanity and forced to do it gracefully. "I will not let that happen," she whispered finally and caressed his back again.

'What have I gotten myself into?' she thought, suppressing the need to shake her head. 'Out of the frying pan and into the fire, Irulan! With your usual fluid cool jump!'

He pulled back then, cupping her face between his hands. "Lovely, lovely Irulan," he whispered, his hazel eyes holding her motionless. A gentler and less forceful kiss landed on her lips. It was done before she could pull back and he released her then, placing his hands loosely on her waist and resting his forehead on hers. "The first moment I saw you...." he began with a low voice, many minutes later. Her eyes fluttered open and found his unblinking stare and she waited while his hand reached out to caress her cheek. "...I have wanted you," he added with a heavy voice, his hazel eyes shining in light of the lanterns and candles.

She remained speechless by his sudden change and his intensity. More so by the attraction she felt for him. The attraction one felt to an elf. For they were power clad in flesh and blood...pulsing and pulling...like a black hole in space. Nothing escaped the pull of their gravity.

He waited for a moment, then continued, "I will not lie to you, in that you can trust me." His eyes flared up under the dim light when he tilted his head to speak into her ear, his lips caressing the rim of it as he whispered. "I want you still. Far more than before."

She swallowed and tilted back a little to put some distance between them as a flush crept up her cheeks. "But I will not take you at any price. Especially at the price of your own unhappiness." Baeron gave her a long look before he continued, "I will be a friend to you this day. For you have asked it of me and it is a great honor. In return, I ask for one thing alone..." Irulan, slightly panting with alarm and excitement, did not trust herself to speak, and therefore merely nodded for him to continue. "…That somewhere in the farthest corner of your heart...somewhere in you that is free and wild and bold...you will grant me a chance to show myself to you."

She blinked, frozen with her hands on his chest, rigid and determined to keep him away, her brown eyes fixed on his dark, misty hazel ones. "What exactly does that mean?" was the quiet question she managed to choke out a long moment later.

"Do not throw me away with ease and haste," he said in a pleading whisper. "Do not turn your face from me without a glance. Do not pass by me without a single utterance. That's all I ask, Irulan." She eyed him, still not certain of his meaning and he inhaled, looking down at their entwined hands for a moment.

"But...you know that..."

"I know. And once again...I will not feel bitter if you choose him over me."

She did not know what to say so she said nothing. For the first time since she had made the call and flown all the way from England to Madrid, she felt the slightest unease at her choice. Had it been wise to come to a man whom she had known to have feelings for her? He was an elf, yes...but he was a man nevertheless.

"Baeron," she began tentatively, "this is…not helping the situation. At ALL."

His fingers found her cheek once more and he caressed it very gently, his eyes locked to that action. "You said that you are at a crossroads, no?" Irulan swallowed softly, not daring to move. "That your choice lies yet ahead of you?" She swallowed and looked away, and found her chin, locking eyes with her once more. "It is not a chance I am asking for," he continued, "that would be too bold. But maybe the ghost of a chance." A moment passed between them as he found her hand and brought it up for a kiss. "Grant me your warmth, Irulan." He smiled the saddest smile she had ever seen on any face, and she felt stricken by it. "You say you need my support. I am willing to give my LIFE for the shadow of your warmth."

"But...what about..."

"Legolas will find us eventually, yes."

"What happens when he does?" she whispered in fear.

Baeron did not answer for a long moment. "Then...then we will do foolish things. And you must forgive us for it."

She stared back in anxiety and disbelief as the elf held her gaze evenly. "What kind of...I mean...I can not allow that, Baeron! Not for me! Then I will have neither of you as anything - no friends, no nothing!"

Baeron grinned, very unaffected by her furious look. He kissed her forehead, in the most tender and friendly fashion, then glided back to give her space. With a rather solemn expression on his face, he spread her napkin on her lap and gently smoothed it. "It does not matter. WE want you. We will do what we must," he said matter-of-factly.

Her mouth fell open to that and Irulan remained simply incapable of words as he filled her glass of water and pushed the salad and appetizer plates towards her. Irulan, though, didn't move and after managing to close her mouth simply sat staring at him. Baeron stared back, an expression of perfect innocence on his face. "I know what you are thinking," he said finally, his lips gaining a sly grin.

"Good," she seethed. "Because the words I would pick to express it would shame me!"

He grinned wider and began to cut his meal. "Your mistake, Irulan," he said and bit on a potato, tasting it while she looked at him with narrowed eyes, "is to assume that you, me or Legolas have any choice in this matter."

"Of course we do!"

Baeron ignored her completely and dived his fork into his black beans. "No, we don't. We have passed that junction, that crossroads. Now we will walk the road we have chosen - no matter what awaits us there." He wiped his mouth with the napkin and released his fork, leaning onto the table to give her a better look. "Can you say that YOU yourself made the choice of falling in love with Legolas?" Irulan, momentarily baffled and disturbed by that question, tore her gaze and inspected her plate instead. "Can you say that you choose now to like or dislike me?" Another moment passed as she felt defeat at those questions. "From the very first moment I saw you," he said slowly and his tone forced her to lock eyes with him once more, "I have desired you. Under those circumstances I would not have acted upon it - perhaps that much of it was MY choice. But now the circumstances have changed. And my road is laid."

"What if I go back on mine?" she said, trying to sound determined and cold.

Baeron grinned in his own peculiar way and shrugged. "You can certainly try. I will not go back on mine. Neither will Lord Legolas on his."

"Are you saying that I HAVE to belong to either one of you?!" she hissed with disbelief.

Baeron sighed, squinting his eyes and looking around the restaurant. Again she did not expect it, but he changed from playful and lofty to serious instantly. "All I am saying is," he said, caressing the back of her hand that lay on the table between them as his eyes remained fixed on hers, "that you have touched my heart. It is impossible to forget such a thing and pretend it never happened."

***

Legolas inhaled and let the strange smell take over his senses. The scent of salt. Of sand. Of open, wide, blue water as far as the eye could see. He had grown out of the shock that had taken hold of his mind when he first saw the ocean. The intimidation he felt at its vastness was gone. Now only an alluring pull remained.

He opened his eyes and stared out to the water that stood as blue as his eyes. So much water! And beyond it…Valinor.

A gull cried right at that moment and his heart jumped once more. He disliked that sound for it stirred a strange, primitive urge in him to wade into the waters and keep walking. From this day on he would come to dislike it even more, for it would forever be etched into his mind as the sound of parting.

The swish of footsteps behind him pulled him out of that dark lullaby and he inhaled again, allowing the scent of the ocean gently sizzle his lungs before he spoke. "A good day it is, Mithrandir."

"A fine day for parting, my friend," came the voice. So human in texture! Though its bearer was far from human.

"No day is fine for parting," he said before he could stop himself. A moment later the Wizard's hand landed on his shoulder, gently squeezing it. "You are wrong, my friend." The elf turned to see the expression of gentleness on his face. A power emanated from the old man that was perhaps not perceivable for any other, but had always been very evident for Legolas. "When you live as long as I have," Gandalf mused on, squinting his eyes and gazing into the blue horizon, "you will see that some days are perfect for parting. Those are the days you have people to part from, around you. The worst of days is when you go…and no one is there to say farewell." Such would be the departure of Arwen, but neither elf, nor Wizard knew it yet. "I feel distinguished, for many have come this day," Gandalf added, locking his twinkling eyes with the elf's once more.

Legolas nodded and turned away from the water as the gull cried again and he swallowed softly in reply. "I fear this(new side to me," the Prince whispered, the slightest of terrors in his voice. "What strange creature I am becoming! An immortal, who feels like mortals!"

Gandalf laughed his famous, loud laughter and it fanned out from them, as they walked on the white sand towards the haven in the distance. A wild forest was adorning their right, the gigantic roots of the trees embedded into the pale sand like the legs of spiders. "That, my friend, is an improvement, believe me," the old man sighed a moment later, still chuckling. "Change is good, Legolas. Change is essential." He looked at the elf walking beside him in silence while the other kept his face down. "Everything in the world changes. You must change along, or remain something unnatural and unworldly in the face of it."

Legolas sighed, watching their feet glide over the sand - his gently caressing it, not sinking in, while Gandalf's were washing it aside with every step. "I cannot imagine this world without you. Without the elves. Without Mirkwood," Legolas said.

"You are young, yet," said Gandalf matter-of-factly. For a moment they remained puzzled to that, then both looked at each other, breaking into gentle laughter. No other would make a comment like that to Legolas, who, at that time, was beyond 3000 summers old. "In your darkest day, Legolas," Gandalf said suddenly, halting in mid-step and locking eyes with him once more, "remember that you are loved. That you are missed. That you are never alone and always well-kept in our hearts." Once again, the man's hand found his shoulder as Legolas stared into the blue eyes, swallowing softly. "We will not be there to say it. And the world is a treacherous place - it will urge you to forget this in time. But you mustn't forget!" The grasp on his shoulder gained strength and the elf shifted to stand more upright, his eyes locked to the orbs of the Istari before him. "You must remember that love is stronger than time. Mightier than distance. I ask your promise, dear friend."

A long moment passed and when the gull cried for the third time, he promised on the sandy beach of Rhun, as the majestic White Ship stood beckoning at the dock, a vessel of incredible beauty and size. As Gimli, Legolas, Aragorn, Arwen, Galadriel, Frodo, Sam, Merry, Pippin, Faramir, Eowyn, Eomer, Haldir, Elrond, Celeborn and many others would say farewell to one another forever. As the world was changing that very moment and nothing would ever be the same again.

Gandalf had been right. The world had indeed tried to make him forget that promise many, many times. But Legolas would hold true to his word. In the fiercest battlefield, as death brushed by him, he would remember. When he witnessed the loss of friends, lovers, companions, he would remember. In the face of chaotic revolutions as the streets became a slaughterhouse; during his meetings with emperors, kings or generals who stank of such evil that he had felt nauseous in the face of it; when he watched the brave and the innocent lying down to the guillotine for honor, truth and justice; as he observed the greed of power kill millions in a matter of minutes without the slightest regret…he would remember.

And he remembered now. In this dark hour. In this long night.

He heard Haldir approach the room long before the knock on the door. And even after he granted entrance, Legolas chose not to rise from his armchair to glance over his shoulder. The moonlight was streaming in through the window, washing everything in black and blue.

Haldir said nothing for a long while and waited behind the desk in patient politeness. Only after several moments, did his voice sound in the silence. "I know you do not want me to come along." Legolas only shook his head, still not turning to look around. "Legolas...allow me to speak my mind."

He did not reply and after a short hesitation Haldir glided to stand by the second armchair, facing the window as well. Their eyes met shortly and finally the Prince nodded and the other elf glided to sit on it, his pose slightly facing his friend. "Where does your anger lie?" was the gentle question.

Again, he found no reply right away, other than a deep sigh. "Nowhere. And that is an evil thing." He inhaled again before he continued, "I cannot blame her. Neither can I blame Baeron."

Haldir nodded once, his blue eyes sparkling in the dim setting. "Often I have longed to return the touch of mortals on my heart," he said quietly, shifting to glance out the tall windows, into the dark forest. "But all cracked and fell apart at my hard, clumsy grasp. It was in those times that I despaired and thought 'Perhaps our kinds were not made to mingle'." The other elf gave him a long glance and Haldir turned to reply it in the same fashion. "But I know that it was merely the darkness pressing upon me. And it was vanity that made me say such things - why blame the Valar and how they had created us, when there is only my own clumsiness to blame?"

"You had said that I might regret this test. Once again, you were right, Haldir," was the tired statement.

"No need to lose hope, Legolas," the other countered then. "Will you let this incident end your happiness before it can sprout?"

"Of course not!" was the sharp reply as their blue gazes locked once more. He pursed his lips and turned back to the window once more. "Too long have I waited for her. I cannot let her walk away now."

"That would be foolish, I must admit," was the flat statement. Neither spoke for a moment, then Haldir continued cautiously, "Such things happen in every affair. More so amongst humans. Do not dwell on it more than it deserves."

"Perhaps amongst humans, Haldir," Legolas sighed, "but it should not have happened between us. Of all the pitfalls, mistrust is the most deadly. It was a terrible mistake not to tell her of it sooner. The fear of losing her overshadowed my mind." He brought his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes.

The Lothlorien elf leaned slightly forward, locking his blue gaze with that of the Prince. "She did not leave with loss of love, Legolas. Only that, you would have no power to change. But…she still loves you. Everything else is minor. Your mistake is trivial and you will unmake it."

They both chose silence once more, leaning back in their armchairs and observing the night view for a while. Legolas felt his spirit lighten a little. It was not the end of the world. It was not the most terrible mistake. Irulan was confused and a little dazed. He could fix that. He could slacken his pace and give her a wider circle to breathe in. The only problem was...Baeron. He was the only danger in this equation and he was why Legolas had to go after her now. Because he knew with certainty that if he allowed her to drift, Baeron would claim her.

From the corner of his eyes he saw Haldir raising his hand to his cheek, grimacing. He turned to the other elf, then, raising his eyebrows at his expression. "I received my first slap today," Haldir said dryly, a sheepish look on his face. "It was not very enjoyable."

Legolas could not help a smile crawling on his lips. "Anne?"

"Indeed," sighed the other elf, looking somewhat lost as to how he should react to something like that. "She was not happy to hear that I knew of such a test all this time. And I must add that she has a strong arm."

"If it will make you feel better," grinned Legolas then, "I received two this day. Irulan, too, has a hefty arm."

They looked at each other, then laughed softly. Their tones were far from bitterness - in fact, it sounded more like they were glad. As if they were boys who had just accomplished and shared something truly extraordinary and maturing. In a way, it was so. For a slap on the face did not happen to an elf every day.

With that laughter, the last remnants of the dread on his spirit lifted and Legolas let go of it. With each moment, the fact that this had been a mere argument and a misunderstanding seemed to gain strength. Irulan was a temperamental and overly confused woman and she had acted without thinking. He would find her and guide her back to where she belonged. And in the meantime, he would kill Baeron while he was at it and thereby do something useful as well. He smiled broadly, his chuckles dying into a deep and content sigh.

It was then that both picked up the faintest of sounds in the distance. Legolas gracefully stood up, then and Haldir followed, turning to face him. The Prince smiled broader, his face speaking of hope and determination as Haldir lay his hand on his shoulder. "One thing is for certain, Legolas," he mused, his lips quirking up playfully, "I do not recall you chasing a woman ever before."

"I assure you, Irulan makes up for all the wasted time, my friend," sighed Legolas, grinning to show his perfect teeth. He moved away then, grasping his jacket as he strode out of the room, through the dark hallways, ever closer to the garden where the chopper would descend soon.

***