Thanks to all who reviewed! More normal chapter for you… though there is a bit of a jump forward. If you think it's sick, REREAD the first few lines. I'm not that sick. (Despite being hospitalized for most of the past week. Not mental problems, honest.)

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"What's the matter?"

Leherim smiled slightly as loving arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her gently back against a firm body. A light kiss was dropped to her shoulder, then her neck, then the slightest brush behind her ear before she considered telling him to behave… for a half second, after which she dismissed the thought.

"Love?"

She sighed and rested her hands over his. "Legolas."

"What about him?"

"As long as I can remember we've had a connection of sorts."

"Yes," he prompted softly when she trailed off.

"Well, ever since you left… I've kind of gone quiet. I never really confided in him about this like I used to about anything and everything. I know it's been hurting him, but he won't say anything. He might not even admit it, now."

"Why wouldn't he, if you want to still be close—"

"We'll always have that bond, Elrohir. Nothing can change that simple reality. But the deep loving friendship may be slipping away, out of reach."

"Not if you don't want it to," he countered, holding her tightly. Slowly he released her. "You two have something special. You can't let it go without a fight."

"Are you sure you want me to fight?"

"Why wouldn't I? It's a part of you."

"It has been," she agreed, struggling to put her concerns into words. "Which has made me a part of him, and him a part of me. We've never been truly separate… Can you stand knowing that a male who isn't you is so close to me?"

"I knew that when I grew to love you, Lee, and it hasn't changed. You should speak with him on this. Soon. As in now."

"Now? Tonight of all nights?"

"Do you want to head into tonight worrying about your relationship with your brother? Without the blessing I think you felt you had a reason not to ask him for? I may not have the same connection you two do, but I saw his eyes darken when you didn't speak with him, and how you ignored his attempt to reach you. Go speak with him."

Leherim bowed her head and slowly nodded. "It may be a while."

"We have a month alone, guaranteed. Take whatever time you two need. You've been brooding over this for a while now… and I think he has as well."

Slowly she nodded. "Probably."

"You mean you don't know?"

Pain slashed through her at her husband's words, and she bit her lip. How had she let things go so far that she didn't even know for certain how Legolas felt about her marriage, even? She hadn't asked, hadn't checked his emotions for fear of what she'd find because she hadn't asked, and because she hadn't confided in him. It was time… past time, for her to do both.

Without a word she left her childhood room and swept through the sitting rooms until she was in Legolas's room. He was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling with one arm resting over his eyes. He'd apparently just fallen back in exhaustion, seeing as how his tunic and shirt were lying dully on the floor near his dress cape, his belt with his dagger dropped carelessly, one boot off as the other hung from his foot, limply dangled off the edge of the bed.

Her shoulders drooped—she'd only seen him so exhausted when emotions were taking a toll on him, which almost always had to do with her, somehow. The red-hot knives churned in her gut again, and she gently reached out and tugged his other dress boot off, letting it fall with its mate before she moved to sit at his side.

She lightly reached out and moved his arm—he was so dead asleep it fell where she let it go without making him stir in the slightest. The small temple braids he'd worn for her ceremony were the only orderly parts of his hair. The rest had mostly escaped the chord he'd tied at the back of his neck when the slightly more relaxed style had been acceptable.

Looking at him, she could see small lines of pain and strain drawn around his mouth and eyes, lines that could take several happy years to smooth away once more. The chain about his neck was lying crookedly, and she absently reached over his shoulder to pick the pendant off of the pillow, intending to replace it against his chest.

Like a strike of lightning his hand closed around hers tightly, his grip firm but not painful as he blinked a few times, waking up. He recognized her with a frown, releasing her hand. "What are you doing here? Tonight, of all nights?"

She looked down at the pendant, the small stones set in the pattern of their house—he had joked once it was his collar, his badge of ownership, that which marked him of the Royal House of Mirkwood. Her own necklace had been set aside, and a jewel from Imladris now hung about her neck in the same fashion—the strands to their necklaces were very easy to miss, unless one was looking for them, so they went virtually unnoticed, covered by everyday clothing until having them on became as normal and mundane as their titles had. But hers had changed.

And it made it all so obvious.

"I'm sorry, Legolas."

"For what?" he asked with a soft frown.

Now that everything was all right in her world again, she noticed the soft darkening of his eyes that indicated he could easily think of something she could be apologizing for. "Every last thing… Starting when I went to Elrohir for fighting lessons instead of you."

"That was my suggestion," he murmured dryly, sitting up.

"But it was our tradition. I should have stuck by it, or at least included you more than I did… when he was here, and when he left. It hurt to think about him, and… I somehow felt if I didn't talk about it, even to you, maybe it would hurt less."

"Did it work?"

"No," she murmured miserably. "All it did was lose me my best friend."

He sighed softly and shook his head, running a hand through his hair, removing the chord altogether, letting his hair fall absently around his shoulders. "You haven't lost me, Leherim."

She bit her lip at his weary tone. "Haven't I?" He just looked at her. "Why didn't you hug me, then? Why call me Leherim instead of dear one, or little one, or sister dear?"

He closed his eyes for a moment. "Leherim, you're married now. You're not my little sister anymore. You aren't my dear one, my little one. You're Elrohir's now. I highly doubt he'd enjoy sharing you, even with your brother."

"Then why did he send me here to make things right, if I could? I've missed you, even though it was entirely my own fault."

He shook his head. "Leherim—"

"Legolas, please. I know it's hurt you, what I've done, but it's hurt me too. Please—" She bit her lip as tears came to her eyes. She was loosing her brother, and she could think of nothing to say to stop it. Please.

He turned his head slightly, looking at the pattern of the coverlet on the bed, and she felt as if she'd been struck. Shaking, she pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. She felt numb as she began rocking slowly, trying to comfort herself. She'd never had to do that before.

When she thought her heart would surely break, and the tears clawing behind her eyes would be released, she felt a light touch on her arm. Looking over, she saw nearly black eyes watching her, torment written as plainly there as in the quick burst of emotion he sent her. She searched his face desperately, and threw herself into his embrace when he opened his arms for her.

Promise me, she whispered softly, promise me we'll make this right somehow.

I think we're well on our way, sister dear. He kissed her crown. But you should get back to your husband now. Not nice to make him wait like this on his wedding night.

She let out a short laugh through her tears. "Legolas?" she asked softly, biting back her lingering tears. She pulled back to see his face, and forced a small, watery smile when his large hands framed her face and brushed gently at her tears.

"Hmm?"

"What do you think of me marrying Elrohir?"

"It's a bit late to be asking, don't you think?"

Slowly she shook her head. "No."

He shook his right back at her. "You know that's not true. You love him, and dissolving things now would only cause grief."

"Would you want me to?"

"I would never want you hurt," he protested, eyes darkening again.

"But what do you think?"

He sighed softly. "I think as long as you're happy—" he broke off when she glared at him, and smiled gently. "Okay, okay. I've always kind of thought Elrohir and Elladan as a little too serious. They act more like princes than I do, and I have the damned title. Still, stuffiness aside, I know they're both good elves, kind and honest, extremely trustworthy. So although I may personally have enjoyed it a bit more if a new addition to the family had a bit more spirit, there is certainly nothing objectionable about him. Except maybe the whole part where he thinks I'm letting my baby sister spend the rest of her time in Imladris."

She rolled her eyes with a true smile. "Legolas," she complained.

He sobered. "I'm not saying I'll try and stop him from taking you there. It's safer there, with Elrond's power and their more stable connections with the Golden Wood, but I'm not letting him carry you off without visiting more often than makes sense, since we can talk whenever we like."

"And why shouldn't we stay here?"

"As I said, it's safer there."

"What of when the danger has passed, then?"

"By then I doubt it will matter. With the constant removal to the undying lands, there will soon enough be no elves left on these shores. We shall all be together in the West."

"Then it would be fine if we stayed here until then, as there will be a reunion with his family fairly soon."

"Or the other way around. Elrohir hasn't the same connection with his twin as we have. Would you force him away from his twin? From his sister? His father?"

She bit her lip with a frown. "I hadn't thought about it like that. But I don't want to leave here. What about Father? And Mirimir? And everyone else?" What about you?

"You'll always have me, dear one, as long as there is life within me. Your friends will understand, and know that soon we shall all be in the West, without separation. As for Mirimir… I cannot say. I shall remain here, for the most part, and the kitchen staff has their standing orders about meals, now. Whenever you visit, I'm sure she would be very glad to have you drop by."

Leherim sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder. "I feel as if there's something more I should have done for her."

"She lives," he murmured, "and she begins to realize she is an elf. Her walk is slowly progressing, though she resorts to crouching for speed and when she slinks." He lifted her head and set her slightly from him. "She begins to shine," he assured her.

"Then I can leave her in your hands."

"I count her a friend," he agreed softly, though his eyes darkened slightly. "You should go… and try not to contact me."

She blushed to the tips of her toes, and nodded quickly as she rose. "I'll do my best… but you may want to go back to sleep, anyway."

"I'll try to lock it off before I do," he added with a grimace. "I still don't want to know if that sort of thing can be passed along."

"It would be too weird," she agreed. "But you've always managed…"

"I've always had slightly better control over it than you have. It's easier to stop myself from sending than it is to stop myself from receiving." With a quick shake of his head he got up, resting his hands on her shoulders. "Be happy, whatever happens, and know that I will always love you, dear sister."

"Have you gone soft?" she teased, hugging him tightly. "Whatever will your troop say?"

"Nothing, cause they will never know. I'm only soft when it comes to you."

"And Mirimir?"

He frowned at her words. "Interesting idea. Why would you think that?"

"You try to help her, sometimes to the exclusion of all else. I rather think you would defend her as you would me."

"If by defend, you mean against unwanted attentions, I would do that with any female who hadn't been purposely provoking the attention… and even then, though I'd make sure she knew it was her own fault."

She made an unconvinced noise but felt Elrohir growing a bit restless. "One last thing, Legolas…"

Hearing her hesitation, he took her hands and tilted his head.

"Elrohir and I…"

"What?"

We can almost speak like this. It's more like a—

Whisper?

"Yes," she agreed, startled. "How—"

"That's how we began, Leherim. A soft murmur with more feeling than words." He frowned slightly. "Perhaps in time, you can develop it with him, as well."

"Will it cut this off with you?"

"I wouldn't expect so. After all, it was choice alone that closed down the link for a time."

She sighed. "I know."

"Hey," he murmured, tilting her head up.

"Is what horses eat." At his somewhat annoyed grimace, she smiled. "I couldn't resist. Sorry."

"Anyway," he grumbled. "Perhaps eventually the three of us will all be linked to each other."

"Would that be a good thing?"

"Of course."

"How so?" She could think of several reasons why she would not want her husband and her brother linked.

"He and I can swap Leherim stories, of course, without having to leave you alone somewhere without the benefit of our gracious company."

"Gracious indeed," she muttered, pulling back with a shake of her head. Talk to you later, Legolas.

Good night.

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