I'm so sorry about the delay, I really am! Gomen! Gomen! Starting high school has been a jolt for me right now, but it's getting better! And not only that, but my old beta, Amy, who betaed this story has stopped, so I had to switch it over to Eilonwy4!

But at least there's this chapter, and the next one should be coming soon! Sooner then this one was, at least!

Chapter 4: Tides

"During depression, a person may lose interest in their hobbies, become listless to the world around them..." I grumbled and shut off the radio, the commercial dragging on my nerves. Not only was that a lie, but what could medicine do for someone who was depressed? Anyway, that depression was fake; it wasn't because a person had problems in their life but because they were screwed up in the head and thought, they had problems.

The real ones with problems would probably not say anything about them.

I stared at the drawing in front of me. It was a mess, a total mess, one only worthy for the small paper shredder beside me. I took one last look at it, the forlorn figure upon it staring helplessly at the swirling rain clouds around it, before slipping it through the machine. All that came out were graphite covered slips of paper. They slid through my fingers and into the trash, catching on the breeze from my fan. The black stained my pale fingers, long fingers. And one piece caught on my bracelet.

The small spikes mocked me as I stared at the piece of black metal. I had tried before to remove it, but nothing I did could get it off my arm. Haldir had noticed some of my pathetic attempts and sneered at me, pulling me into a thirsting kiss.

"No way to move it, just like my love, dear prince of mine."

I reached for a knife sitting at the top of my desk. It had a slender handle, light colored wood, with a long, milky blade. There were inscriptions on the blade, but I never took much time to study them, only if I happened to draw that knife. I twirled it between my fingers. I had taught myself how to knife fight when I was young. Often times I would spend hours on Elrond's farm sparring with the twins. And Haldir would join us. When we were only children, Haldir had a good heart. And I suppose I had a good heart also. Or maybe that was just innocence. But I could smile without forcing it, laugh, and not spend most waking moments fighting my urge to scream and kill something (namely Haldir) or fall to the ground sobbing. Elrohir and Elladan were about the same, pranksters from the start.

I set the knife between two of the spikes, applying pressure slowly. I had tried this in the past, but maybe this time, now that I was stronger, it would work. Maybe my sheer force of will would be enough to bend it and break it in two, freeing me.

The knife slipped off the metal and onto my arm. I cursed and pulled it away. Blood pooled on the edges of a cut, deep but not long. It slipped down my arm to drip on a piece of paper below me. Then another drip, then another. It stung, but pain was nothing to me now. I watched, hypnotized, as the little beads collected on the paper, running into each other, seeping through to my desk.

"Legolas, a friend is here to see you! I believe its Elrond's foster son, but I'm not sure!" My father's voice barely penetrated my thoughts. I looked up from the paper but shrugged. My door's locked; there's no way he can get in, right?

Someone knocked.

"Hello, Legolas? It's Aragorn. You father said that you wouldn't answer the phone when I called..." He knocked again. I stared at the large splotches of red, breaking apart the paper. Maybe if I lifted it, the red would run off, blood off a bleeding paper, a paper heart, like my own.

He did call, didn't he? And I didn't answer him. So here Aragorn was, knocking at my door. Well, he can't get in.

"Legolas, what's wrong? Sometimes, you appear pleased enough with life, but...but that's all a mask, isn't it? Legolas let me in." Who did this Aragorn think he was? He had only known me for a week but wanted to help me fix my problems. Well, if you had a chainsaw and a steady hand I think that you could help...

"Go to hell," I responded finally. "I don't want you here. So leave me alone. You have no business in my life." I heard Aragorn let out a sigh before shuffling away.

I felt a touch of remorse at hearing his feet shuffle down the stairs. Should I have turned him away with such a cold shoulder? Aragorn sounded....sincere. But no, there was no room in my pathetic life for anyone but me. I pulled my arm from the paper, knowing that any more and it would stain the desk. Then my father would find out and send me to a shrink. My last experience with one was that she was young, female, and inattentive to my problems and spent most of the time flirting with me. Didn't want to have that happen again.

"Yes, just let Aragorn go to hell," I whispered. "What does he matter? What will he do? My life's set." I will graduate in two years, and then Haldir and I will find a place to live, probably not even get a chance to go to college. I'll paint and Haldir will work odd jobs, come home, fuck me, then go back to work while I paint and slowly let my sorrows build inside.

And one day he'd come home to see me dangling from the ceiling fan, a note beside me. And then he would learn his mistakes.

"Legolas, someone else is here for you!" Thranduil called. "It's Faramir." I cursed. The paper I bled on soon found its way to the shredder, joining the other slips in my wastebasket. Faramir's feet pounded up the stairs. There was a pause before the door clicked and he entered, a lock pick swinging from his fingers.

"You need better locks," he announced. I shrugged, hiding my wounded arm. "Well, anyway, Éowyn, Glorfindel and I were down at the boardwalk and decided we needed to pull you from your little cave. So will you come?" I shrugged again. I knew I should probably join them, to keep up appearances.

"Sure," I said. Faramir grinned.

"Then we'll be down there waiting for ya. Should I lock your door back, or will it do any good?" I threw an eraser at his head as he slipped from the room and casually made his way back to the ocean.

Well, now I had to get up, change clothes, and drag my feet to the pier. Haldir wouldn't be there, at least, since he's working his shift at the shop today. Why not?

So I slipped into new clothing, tied my hair back in a ponytail, and ran down the stairs. My father looked up from his work only briefly before sighing at me. Maybe it was my clothing, the loose green shorts and blackish-silver tank top, chains, necklaces, and of course, my bracelet. I slammed the door behind me and didn't slow to a walk until I was halfway down the street.

The island was set up quite simply, with two main roads, and streets joining between them. One faced the oceanfront, and the other the Inter Coastal Waterway. My house was on the marsh side, near to the bridge that joined the mainland with the island. And only two streets down from my house was the street that crossed towards the pier. Haldir lived along that road, in one of the split houses. On the other side of his house were some of Galadriel's friends. I passed that house by without even looking.

Faramir, Éowyn, and Glorfindel were waiting at the base of the pier. Faramir waved, and I quickened my pace to meet up with them.

"Took you long enough," Glorfindel said. I shrugged. The four of us started down the pier, Éowyn clinging to Faramir, Glorfindel alone in the middle, with me, sulking to the outside. My wrist still tingled from where the blood was drying.

"So, found more about that letter, note, whatever?" Glorfindel asked. I closed my eyes, cursing him.

"Letter?" Éowyn asked. My foot slid out, and my boot dealt a heavy blow to Glorfindel's shin, though it escaped Éowyn's sight. Glorfindel breathed "fuck," favoring his leg.

"Just something in my locker, said "sorry" on it," I said. Éowyn grinned.

"From Haldir?" she asked. I shook my head.

"Nope, he doesn't sink that low. I don't care 'bout it, truthfully." Éowyn raised her eyebrows, but Faramir squeezed her arm, and she didn't say more. Glorfindel, though, hadn't learned his lesson.

"Get those often, then, if you take it so causally?" I glared at him.

"No," I retorted. "Once from Haldir, and that was it." But before I could elaborate more, I heard a groan from Éowyn.

"Lookie," she said, pointing down the pier. I turned my head to see none other then Arwen, sitting on one of the benches, her arms draped around Aragorn. Aragorn looked a bit nervous, at least I thought so, and repulsed. Elrohir and Elladan were leaning on the railing, not far away, snickering to themselves. Aragorn joined them before punching Elrohir's arm, glaring. Elrohir said something, whining, no doubt, and cradled the arm. Elladan held him like a concerned mother.

"You still gawking at Aragorn?" Faramir asked, light enough, but you could tell he was cold. Éowyn glared at him.

"No, I am not. I was just amazed at that Arwen girl," she said. Arwen was now trying to get into Aragorn's lap, but Aragorn shoved her off. So, she contented herself with pressing as close to his body as possible. My blood boiled at the sight of Aragorn. He had just come to my door, hadn't he? So what was he doing here, with Arwen? And...where were these thoughts coming from? I shook my head. So what if he sounded like an honest guy then, a bastard, sure, but maybe concerned, not sitting here with that little slut draped over him. He looked my way.

Why did I stop then? Why did I hesitate, falter in my step at the look in his eyes? They were filled with so much hurt, sorrow, at the sight of me and my impassive stare. Then his grey eyes turned dark, cold, as his lids narrowed and he glared at me. I blinked, to clear that image of him and hurried to keep up with my friends.

As we passed, Arwen looked up from where she had been nuzzling Aragorn's neck. She glared at us with her "angelic eyes," "pure eyes," but mostly at me, and returning to massaging Aragorn.

"Don't cha think it's a little early to be running your business, whore?" Éowyn breathed so only we could hear her. Glorfindel and Faramir laughed, but I said nothing, instead drifting away from them. The ocean had me again. The pier was now above the waves, not the sand, and I had to watch those green-blue waves, crested with foam, to stare as they broke on the shore and sucked the sand back with them, eroding the beach, dragging everything in its reach and power with it to the salty depths. Out farther out there were a few shrimp boats, trailed by sea birds, their nets dangling from the beams on each side. The beams swayed from side to side, bringing with them the catch. If I peered close enough, I imagined the men, waiting for the "big one" to come in. And from the pier I could see all the way down the beach, to where it curved off and the rock jetty separated it from a bay leading to the marshes.

"You okay?" Éowyn asked. I looked down at her, her small face framed by her wavy hair, eyes studying me with earnest concern. And not for the first time I thought about what a good person she was. I mean, unlike the rest of us, she had a heart, a dark one, sure, but a heart all the same.

"Yeah," I said, trying to hide the sorrow in my voice. But her brow furrowed. It was as if she was our mother, Faramir's lover, yes, but our caretaker. Like when Glorfindel tried to kill himself two years ago. Éowyn persuaded him out of it. Probably because she had already tried it before. It was common knowledge that before she met Faramir, she had a death wish herself, and had tried on many occasions to end her own life. I guess Faramir pulled her from that slump. Now she was fretting over me.

"Well, then come join us. Don't just stand there or we'll think you want to throw yourself in. And you'd better not do that. Haldir would blame us for it." Haldir, Haldir, Haldir! It's always Haldir! Always what Haldir would do if I died, if I got hurt, if something happened to me!

"'Neyway, that isn't a good spot to do it. Trust me; I've mused over this before." She laughed to herself, quietly, in the manner she did when only she saw the humor in something, her own private joke that even Faramir might not understand. But her eyes shone, and there was a smile on her small lips, so I followed her. I wanted to be alone, yes, but if I didn't Éowyn would lose that smile, turn into another Éowyn who would drag me forcibly back to the group.

We walked the rest of the way, to the end of the pier. I set my elbows on the boards, feeling the slight tremors running through the boards from the wind. I closed my eyes and let the sea breeze tickle my face, soft, gentle. It was hands, brushing by me, a lover's caress, a silent gesture of true feelings. So unlike Haldir that I let out a sigh. It even felt like tears were grouping at the edges of my eyes, but that was an illusion. It had been years since I last cried. Nope, no tears today, they dried from my eyes.

My friends were chattering about something, probably school, and life, and anything really. I wanted to join them, but I could not tear myself from the ocean. No, that was my place. Those people I called my companions, yes, and they were the closest things I had to friends, but the ocean was my lover, a far deeper bond. So I let the breeze fill my ears and the waves breaking and the gulls around me.

"Hey, Legolas, you gonna come ride Arod anytime this weekend?" Glorfindel asked. I turned to see him beside me. He gave me one of his rare smiles, a little turn of his mouth. "Come on, you haven't been down in a while."

"Yeah, I will," I said. "Tomorrow, though, sometime in the morning." Glorfindel nodded.

"I'll come by and see ya, then." I looked behind me. Faramir and Éowyn had gotten themselves into a tickling match, and Éowyn was barely controlling her laughter. I smirked. With a nod of my head, Glorfindel and I let them be, making sure to make our departure quiet.

----------

Miraculously, I avoided Haldir for the rest of the day, feigning to be sick with a cold when he called. He shrugged and said that sucked, and if I didn't get my ass over to his house he would find someone else to entertain him. Sharp retorts tingled upon my lips, but I just chuckled and hung up; words would get me far harsher of a punishment.

Now, Sunday had dawned bright, the sun clear on the hot pavement. Heat seeped through my windows and bathed my room, rousing me from my slumber. I groaned and rolled off the couch, where I had crashed that night. I pulled myself from the tangle of sheets and out of the door; my clothes from yesterday still hung from my body.

Thranduil was still sleeping when I made it into the kitchen. I opened the refrigerator, dug out a can of Coke, and wrote him a note explaining where I was. Sipping on my drink, I closed the door behind me and started down the road. Unfortunately, for me, my father had decided that a horse was enough for me to have, so I was still without a car. Anyway, as he put it, "Haldir drives you everywhere you can't walk," which was a point I could not argue. But today I was left alone to make the thirty minute trek.

I grinned.

Thirty minutes breezed by to me then. It was a short span of time while I was alone, not hours like now, the tick of the clock for each breath of life I wasted. There were no tears. In fact, I sang to myself as I walked, something I did quite often back then. Everyone praised my voice, saying that it was clear, beautiful, but with an edge when I wished for it to be. It has been a while since then, I suppose. Singing is something for times long past. But that day I sang, crossing the bridge to the mainland and meandering along deserted roads to Elrond's estate.

I went first to Glorfindel's cabin, just to see if he was home. It was empty, and there was note on it that read: "Went for dinner at main house." I sniggered. So, he went for dinner last night and just happened to stay all evening. I turned my sights to the barn, not far off. There, I found the twins lurking against one wall. Elrohir nodded to me.

"Legolas!" Elladan called. I smiled as they flanked me on either side. "Haven't talked to you for a while. The only class you're in with us is art, and then you're always busy keeping ole' Aragorn under control." He and Elrohir laughed. I looked ahead.

"So, how's Arod this morning?" I asked. Elladan shrugged.

"A bastard, but that's how he always is, so there's no problems there. He's been getting pretty fat, since you haven't ridden in a while." I laughed; Arod was standing in the pasture, his eyes fixed upon me. Elrohir backed away with a mock bow.

"And so comes the king, to ride into battle," he said. I smiled and shook my head.

"Not a king yet, but I shall be...king to..."

"King of a king!" I glowered, and Elladan made a bow much the same as his twin's. "You know you wouldn't have a queen. The world knows you would not have a queen. So, you would be a king...and a king!" He and Elrohir burst into laughter and snuck away, creeping around the edge of the barn and back to the house.

I suppose it was around three years ago I met Arod. I had been looking for a horse to claim my own, searching through Elrond's herds, and stumbled upon Arod. All I ever heard was, "No, not that horse...he's dangerous...his last rider died, and even he had trouble with Arod..." but I accepted the horse, determined to win him over. It did not take long for Arod to adjust to me, or me to him.

It was always interesting to ride him though. He spooked at the smallest thing, and the approach of another human made him antsy. Which was why we rode alone in a field at the edge of Elrond's property, to not run the risk of any other's catching sight of us. But as we approached the field, crossing out of the borders of the pastureland, Arod began to get jumpy. I felt nothing wrong, but the horse sensed something, nestled among the long grasses of the overgrown field. We were near the edge of the arena (the circular area where someone had actually bothered to cut the grass) when Arod gave a neigh and reared. There was a shout below him, and I started, clinging to him as I regained my balance.

"Watch where you're going!" someone shouted from the grass. A head popped out from the strands. Grey eyes studied me, the eyebrows scrunched together and the mouth in the closest thing I ever saw to a pout on Aragorn's face. Arod backed away, his ears flat.

"Well, I didn't see you," I said. A laugh was forming at the sight of his face, and I let out a chuckle. Aragorn's frown deepened.

"What's funny?" he asked. He stood up, and I dismounted from Arod before he could spook again. I released him, and Arod gave a whinny and cantered away. "Hey, you're horse's running off."

"He'll come back," I said. Aragorn shrugged and brushed himself off. He reached into the grass and pulled a sword from the leaves. "What's that?" I asked, looking at the blade. It shone in the sunlight, and the hilt was a deep grey, wrapped in worn leather, a hole at the pommel shaped in a teardrop.

"My sword," Aragorn responded. "I was practicing before you came."

"So you swordfight?"

"A little." Silence fell between us, and Aragorn turned around nervously to hide his embarrassment. To my own surprise, I felt heat on my cheeks, but at the time I believed it to be anger. Anger at what Aragorn did yesterday, coming out so boldly to ask my problems, anger that he ruined my outing with Arod. But at the same time a smile crept on my face, and I walked around him.

"I don't fancy myself bad with knives," I said. "I don't have any on me, but if I did, we could..." Aragorn reached behind him and flicked out a long knife, handing it hilt first to me.

"Is that a challenge?" he asked, smirking. I shook my head, turning the knife to him.

"I don't fight without double knives."

"You don't dance without two?" he whispered. I furrowed my brow, but he shrugged it off, turning away. He walked to the center arena, dropping his sword at its edge. "So, do you come here often?"

"More then once a week, if I can manage. But since it was the first week of school, this was the first day." My voice dripped with hints for him to beat it, but Aragorn sat down on the grass, casual, without making a scene of his feigned oblivion. "And I can only ride Arod here; he spooks too easily anywhere else."

"Why doesn't he spook with you?" Aragorn asked. "Did something just click?"

"I suppose. I really don't know. It just happened one day, and ever since it's been like that. Maybe I was the first person that wasn't terrified of him." I laughed. "Stupidly, probably. He almost killed me that first day."

"I remember that," Aragorn said. "Someone came down to look at horses, and before I knew what had happened, the twins were gone, running off to take care of an emergency with Arod. I...I think I was inside then."

"You mean you were around then?" I said. I could not remember ever seeing Aragorn before the first day of school, though I had known him to be Elrond's foster son. But he had been around a whole five years ago.

Aragorn made no response. Suddenly he turned around and snapped his fingers.

"It just clicked!" he said. I jumped back, and Aragorn collapsed into fits of laughter. It spread to me, and I laughed beside him, unable to see the humor but needing to laugh all the same. We stumbled around, clutching our sides, before falling to the ground.

"So, what was that for?" I gasped. Aragorn fell back, to the ground.

"I dunno. But you said with you and Arod it just 'clicked.'" Again he snapped, and a giggle escaped my lips.

"I didn't know you could laugh like that," Aragorn whispered. I stopped, frowned.

"What about it?" I retorted, my shields returning, now that I was conscious they collapsed. Aragorn raised his eyebrows. "So I laughed. I've laughed before."

"Not lately, I don't remember it. And you don't talk this much at school either."

"Haldir does enough talking," I said. Aragorn studied the land away from us, watching as the flat grass disappeared to the twisted trees of the marshes on the waterway. I looked down and saw his hands tightening on the grass, the knuckles white.

"I guess he does," Aragorn said. "So, you love him, Haldir? You two look so close." I searched for some excuse to escape, but none came to me. When I made no response, Aragorn faced me. His face then was a mask of...something...but I couldn't search for any known emotions. It swirled around itself, and I opened my mouth to speak the truth.

There was a crunch in the grass, and both of us started. Arod gave a low whinny and approached us. He nuzzled the top of my head as he often did, his eyes darting back to Aragorn, but he had approached both of us. I reached out to him, expecting him to start again, but he stood still.

"Arod," I said. Aragorn dared not move, watching the horse with wary eyes. "He came up to you." Sensing Aragorn's presence, Arod turned and breathed down Aragorn's neck. Aragorn reached one hand out, stroking Arod's neck. He stared but did not flee, letting Aragorn stroke his soft neck. I shook my head.

"Well," Aragorn whispered. "This is a surprise."

"He trusts you. That's all. Maybe...he trusts you." Arod shook out his mane and studied me with his deep eyes, those large eyes he only showed to me, dark, innocent. Aragorn chuckled and rested his head on Arod's nose.

"He really is beautiful," Aragorn said, but...as he said it, he watched me. "I'm honored, for sure."

"He came up to us."

------------------------------

Well, I hope you enjoyed that! And I hope you liked that semi-happy part at the end. Cause...well...best not to give that away, right? Oh, I can't wait! So many ideas...are brimming with angst! I'm so happy!

Please drop a review for me! They are very much appreciated!

And many thanks to Eilonwy4 for betaing this story!