A/N: Wow, I had this brilliant chapter written a few days ago.. And then my computer crashed. It was horrible. I wanted to kill someone. But anyways, here's Chapter 8, and thanks for being so amazingly patient with me! Congrats to Peter Jackson, Fran Walsh, and the rest of the LOTR gang for the wins at the Golden Globes. They'll sweep the Oscars in a month, too!

*Remember, I have altered the actual Lord of the Rings plot to write this.*

Dedication: This is for Miranda Otto, for a wonderful portrayal of Eowyn, which has inspired me throughout this story!

Bold is thoughts.

-Translations are at the end of the chapter.-

Chapter Eight

          Eowyn rode across the plains with the rest of her company. No one questioned her identity, for the horsemen were riding to quickly to Gondor, without a thought about the character of one rider.

Merry had fallen asleep in her arms. Bless his soul, thought Eowyn kindly, He does not fully know what we are about to go into.

She smiled fondly at the little hobbit's blonde head, as it bobbed up and down against her chest. He was a good friend to her, though she had known him for a short amount of time. Merry had believed in her when others had doubted her strength.

Her thoughts once again fell on the Elf that was so far away from her now. Eowyn felt strangely connected to him, though many miles separated them. It was almost as if she could feel his own anguish, and the calling of his heart to hers.

"Legolas melda," she murmured, unaware of what she was saying, "-lyë rilma." Eowyn suddenly jerked from her daze, realizing that she had just spoken the native tongue of her departed lover.

What is happening to me, the Shield Maiden wondered in alarm. She had never learned the tongue of the ethereal races, for none of her close family or friends spoke it. Her hand dropped down to the hilt of her sword in fright.

Merry jolted awake by her motions. "What is wrong, milady? Are we coming up on the scoundrels at Gondor?'

"Nay, we are not, Merry." Her voice sounded shaky, even to her own ears.

"What is wrong, Lady Eowyn?" the young hobbit asked again, concern evident in his quick tone.

"Merry, I have been speaking another language, one that I did not know I could speak." The words came out before she could control them.

Merry laughed cheerfully. "Is that all? Do not fear, Lady, for that might be considered blessed in my culture. It is a sign that you have some distant connection to the tongue that you are speaking."

Connection, thought Eowyn in awe, that would explain why I am speaking this. I have a deep connection with a speaker of that beautiful language.

"If you have a lover who speaks a different tongue, if you are able to speak his tongue without learning it, then your love is deep and pure. It is a good sign, milady." Merry grinned up at her crookedly.

Eowyn smiled back down at him. "Thank you, Merry. You have made me feel so much better."

--

Their company rode for the sea. Legolas' mind was still muddled with the pain of Eowyn's departure, and he could not concentrate on the conversation that drifted between Aragorn and Gimli. He was aware that his friends were concerned about him, but he could nothing to ease their worrying.

"Legolas?"

Aragorn's rough voice broke through the Elf's crazed thoughts. He looked up from his gaze on the leather reins of his horse, and attempted to smile at Aragorn. "What is it that you require, nin mellon?'

The Ranger's calloused hands gestured out in front of him. "We have reached the sea, my friend. Look, look. Gaze out onto the beauty that has long captivated the minds and souls of your race."

Nervously, Legolas turned his bright blue eyes to the scene that awaited him. He lost his breath almost immediately.

The white gulls that flew above the sea-green water were crowing with delight, and Legolas felt his soul join them in their happiness. The white beaches and clear waters, as well as the gentle breeze and bursting life was enchanting to the eyes. Legolas could not think, or breathe. He had never felt this way before.

It was as if something had reached into his soul and wrenched it out of his body. He felt a longing to become one with the waters. Legolas was barely aware of dismounting from his horse and taking a few shaky steps toward the shore.

"What think you, my friend?" asked Aragorn, breaking Legolas out of his reverie.

Legolas took several deep breaths before he could manage to speak. "It is--amazing. I cannot think of how to describe what has taken over my soul."

Aragorn shielded his eyes against the sun, and stared out at the water. His human blood did not affect his perception of the sea. "Arwen always told me that she would love to see the ocean. I will take her here someday, to allow her to sea whatever her soul calls for."

"Do not let her come here," Legolas said harshly. "She shall never want to return to you. My heart belongs to a mortal, as does hers, but from now on my soul shall belong to the call of the sea."

Aragorn walked over to Legolas quickly, and placed a hand on his back. "Your heart belongs to a mortal, my friend?"

Legolas opened his mouth to reply, but just then a gull swooped down by his face and uttered a piercing call. Legolas' blue eyes contracted, and he breathed deeply. "Aragorn, do you remember what message Gandalf brought me through the White Lady?"

The Ranger shook his head, concern evident in his eyes. Legolas spoke shakily, unsure of what to say. "She said:

Legolas Greenleaf long under the tree

In joy thou hast lived. Beware of the Sea!

If thou hearest the cry of the gull on the shore,

Thy heart shall then rest in the forest no more."

He fell silent at the immortal words, obviously deeply troubled. Aragorn shook his shoulder firmly, letting the Elf know that he was there for him. "Do not fear the sea yet, dear Legolas. Wait till we have saved our fate, and then worry about the calling in your soul. 'Tis not the time now."

Gently, Aragorn turned Legolas away from the sea, and began to explain about the mission they would be embarking on. They would be using the Army of the Dead to help steal the ships and ride the tide up to Gondor.

Legolas turned reluctantly, and began to listen to the words of his friend intently. His mind was muddled once again.

My heart belongs to the Shield Maiden, yet my soul to the sea, he thought in anguish, In time the calling of both shall destroy me.

--

Aww, poor pessimistic Legolas! I love him so. Sorry this chapter was so short, but there will be an update quite soon. Lots of snow is expected, so I'll have time to write! Please leave some feedback, as always.

~Moonlit Tears

January 27, 2004

Melda- (my) love

-lyë- you

Relma- glittering light