Voices drifted in the thin dark air as Laurelin made her way to the cooking fires. She was very hungry and the smell of the meal being prepared more than ten feet away from her tent nearly drove her to insanity. She had been reluctant to see Legolas again, shame chaining her to her quarters for most of the day. But now as the sun disappeared into the west, she emerged to find the camp strictly divided. The host of elves had arrived and now the mortals watched them with wary eyes, while the fair ones held a gaze that mingled disgust with superiority.

The men sat around the fire, the elves standing away from them. The only elves that had ventured into conversation with mortals were Morcertar, Legolas and Anordil who talked with the other captains. Neither men nor elves spoke with Lady Mithliriel and her daughter. They both had an intimidating air about them. It seemed to Laurelin that they held ancient spirits, older than many of their other kin. Perhaps going back to Beleriand and the glory age of the fair folk in Middle Earth. Even though they were younger than some of the others there, because of their obvious history, they held power over the others in their company.

It made Laurelin think of how Eldarion had held rank over Rolen because of his heritage, even though Rolen had lived many more years than the prince.

"Morwen!" Cried Kale as he walked over to her, clapping her on the back and handing her a bowl of stew, "Did your care taker decide to hold you in all day?"

"No," She said with a smile, taking the bowl as they walked over to the fire, "I just fell asleep,"

Eldarion, who sat by the fire, glanced up at her slightly. The firelight shimmered on his dark hair that hung in waves to his shoulders. Grey eyes slid over her face quietly, and she could feel them as she stared into the flames. They were full of forced distance, and unread feelings, like the sky before a storm, trying to decided whether to rain or shine in those depths.

Laurelin held his gaze for a moment, then looked away.

They couldn't have rumors, not now.

"When do we ride out, your highness?" Came the voice of one of the soldiers nearby.

"With the dawn," Eldarion spoke evenly.

Laurelin stared at her stew. She heard Eldarion pour out his own meal onto the ground and rise from his seat.

"Turning in early, Eldarion?" Kale asked, sitting beside Laurelin.

"Yes," He answered curtly, making his way out into the dark.

Laurelin continued to stare at the flames ahead of her. She suddenly wasn't hungry anymore.

"Not his usual jovial self, I see," Kale mumbled sarcastically, looking over at Laurelin with a smile.

He was puzzled by her mood. She hadn't even noticed him. What could have gotten into everyone? Kale guessed that the coming morning and thoughts of Moria had disturbed their well being. Without a word, Laurelin poured out her own meal. After biding Kale good night, she made her way out into the darkness.

Though it seemed to her that life was well, the future worried her. The attack upon Moria was sure to bring many casualties if the rumors of war were true. Perhaps she would be among the fallen by the next evening. What would happen if Kale was slain or Legolas?

What if Eldarion was killed?

She pushed away her thoughts violently as she approached her tent. She threw open the flap, the shadowy interior of her quarters lit by a single torch. She pulled her tunic over her head and brushed off her shirt. Her stomach lurched with hunger.

Her breath caught in her throat when she heard movement in the shadows. She unsheathed her dagger and whipped around. Eldarion sat in the chair beside her bed, his legs spread out in front of him. He watched her thoughtfully. For a moment she was frightened that he had discovered her true identity.

"You can put that away, Morwen." He spoke evenly, her fears subsiding as she set the blade down.

"Do you wish to speak to me, your highness?" She asked quietly.

His eyebrows arched, "Why so formal?"

She shrugged and sat down beside him on her bed, setting the now sheathed dagger on the ground next to her. Eldarion stood and paced around the warmly lit room for a moment. He stopped in front of her. Laurelin noticed that his forehead had the familiar creases again.

"Morwen," He said, running his hand through his hair, "What is to happen to us."

"We will ride to Moria in the dawn-"

"Stop it." He spat, his tongue sharp, "You know that is not what I mean," He knelt in front of her and took up her hands in his, "Morwen," His voice was soft again, "What is going to happen?"

Laurelin could barely look at him. She was to marry him in another life; in this one she had given her maidenhead to him. What a tangled web she had gotten herself into. Nothing could ever be between them. If they parted ways, he would return to Gondor to find that his bride had gone missing. He would be relieved and go on living life, never knowing that his runaway captain had been his betrothed all along. If she told him the truth...that was out of the question. His eyes implored her to speak, to answer, anything to break the terrible silence.

Laurelin breathed deeply, "You are to be married, your highness." She replied, staring at their intertwined fingers, "There is nothing to happen."

She felt her eyes well and a droplet slide down her cheek. How had she gotten here? Everything had happened so fast. How could she have allowed herself to fall in love with the man she had tried to run from?

"No," Eldarion said, huskily, "No Morwen, I do not even know my betrothed. I won't let it happen," His brought her forehead to his roughly, his hand cradling her face; "I love you." The words bit deep into her spirit bittersweet, "Say you love me too, say it, Morwen." He whispered, brushing his lips over her brow and down the bridge of her nose.

Laurelin felt the words choke her throat, "Eldarion-"

"Say it, please,"

"Eldarion, I can't," She cried openly now as his arms wound around her waist.

"Please..."

Laurelin felt her defenses give as he kissed mouth, coaxing her lips open. Gently, he pushed her back onto the bed and she allowed him. Gods in heaven, why did she allow him? His lips followed the indent of her collar bone, mumbling incoherently as he unlaced her shirt. Why wasn't she stopping him? She knew that any future with Eldarion was impossible. Dear Eluvatar, why wasn't she saying anything?

She was too far gone to do anything. It was no use.

"Say you love me, please,"

The words filled her mouth like milk and honey.

"Please."

"I love you, Eldarion." She whispered, her eyes brimming again with tears, "I love you."

Eldarion groaned and took her mouth again.

The torch slowly burned out.

Laurelin wrapped a blanket around her. The grass was cool on her naked feet as she swung her legs onto the ground. It was still night, dawn had not yet raped the innocent black sky with its hungry fingers. However, morning was close and they would be leaving soon. She looked over at Eldarion where he lay still sleeping. His hair was splayed out; a shock of dark locks against the pure white pillow. His chest rose and fell; the skin ten to his breast bone where it paled. Laurelin smiled sadly, her heart aching with truth.

She stood and tightened her grip on the sheet around her bare shoulders.

She had said the words. She had told the Prince that she loved him. She roughly dragged the heel of her hand over her eyes and set it her table. She picked up her shirt and leggings that had been discarded and folded them neatly. Carefully she lit a candle and sat watching it. She had said the words. She closed her eyes and racked her brain. Why had she done that?

She heard Eldarion stir. She turned and found that he was watching her. His grey eyes were deep with thought, as usual. She blushed and looked down.

"Come back to bed, dear one. We still have a few more moments." He said softly.

She obeyed, spreading out the extra blanket over them as she lay beside him, nestling her head in his chest.

"Eldarion?"

"Hmm?" He murmured quietly, running his fingers through her hair.

"I have something to tell you."

"Yes?"

She could feel the words, the truth, breeching her lips. How much she wanted to tell him; to hear him call her by her real name. She shivered and shut her eyes tightly. Before she could tell him, a voice came from outside the tent.

"Captain Morwen, we leave soon."

Laurelin opened her eyes, "Thank you," She called back, sitting up.

She could hear the camp waking up outside.

"We'd better be up, dearest." Eldarion said, kissing her shoulder and jumping out of the cot, "What did you want to tell me?" He asked, gathering his clothing.

"Nothing," Laurelin replied, falling back into the sheets, "Absolutely nothing."