A/N:

Jebb: Yes, I know. It was a bit of a shock, eh? Sorry! But there is a point to it after all!

Legolas let out a howl of agony and Gimli literally felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up on end. He had never seen the elf in such a state. Not even Aragorn's fall had caused him such grief. He seemed almost mad with pain and Gimli's heart, for the first time in his long life, quavered.

"Lad," he whispered. "She said not to worry. She will recover."

Legolas said nothing but disappeared below deck. Gimli could hear his screams of rage as he tore apart the bowels of the ship in his torment.

Aragorn heard the racket and quickly boarded the ship. Oath breakers wandered about, their eyes downcast. One lay on the deck in a crumpled heap of bones, a miserable creature neither living nor dead.

Gimli stood near the rail with wide eyes, watching the deck as Legolas's cries rose up from under him.

"What happened?" The ranger demanded.

"The lass," was all Gimli managed to choke out before his eyes welled up with tears.

Aragorn was confused. "What lass? Annowe? What was she doing here?"

Gimli said nothing but shook his head. He did not know, either. All he knew is that she was gravely wounded, thrown into the sea and the elf was beyond mad with grief. For a fleeting moment, Gimli wondered if he had done the right thing by throwing her overboard. She had told him to and he had obeyed. He desperately hoped she would recover.

Aragorn gravely took in the situation. "Gimli, go with the oath breakers to the next ship. Wait there for me. I will go after Legolas," he commanded.

With a nod, Gimli obeyed. The oath breakers followed. Aragorn pulled open the hatch and descended below to calm the mad elf. Gimli hoped Aragorn would be safe and watched the ranger anxiously from the other ship, ready to come to his aid if he cried for help.

As Aragorn descended the stairs, he saw Legolas wielding a very large board and mercilessly beating a table until the furniture collapsed under his blows. Cautiously, Aragorn made his way toward his friend and waited until the elf's madness had subsided enough that he could be heard over the din.

"Legolas," Aragorn said clearly but calmly. "Look at me."

Legolas threw the board so hard that it became embedded in the wall. He stood there for several moments, taking deep breaths and trying to calm himself.

"Legolas," Aragorn repeated. "I'm not leaving."

The ranger watched Legolas clinch and release his bloody hands in an effort to restrain his madness. Slowly, the elf turned to face his friend. Legolas' delicate features were now distorted with pain and rage but his eyes were what frightened Aragorn the most.

His eyes were flat, cold and distant with no hint of light. He's gone over the edge of reason, Aragorn realized.

"Legolas," Aragorn began, unsure of what would draw his friend back but needing him to return. "Please don't. I still need you."

This seemed to reach into the elf's mind and he gave a slight nod. Aragorn was relieved. Best take this one step at a time until he comes out of this, he reasoned.

"Come," the ranger beckoned over his shoulder as he walked toward the stairs. "Follow me. We must make to Minas Tirith, remember?"

The elf blinked several times then hesitantly followed Aragorn up the stairs.

Gimli gave a great sigh of relief when he saw the two appear on deck. Legolas was moving like he was in a trance and he looked worse than Gimli had ever seen him. Even worse than Helm's Deep, and that's saying quite a bit, the dwarf thought.

He moved to the gangway as the two boarded the ship. "Take him below, please, Gimli. We need to get underway," Aragorn urged.

Gimli nodded and touched the elf lightly on the arm to get his attention. "Come, lad," he said gruffly to hide his own distress.

"No," Legolas said. "I want to stay here on deck in case . . ." He was unable to finish the sentence and Gimli feared he would burst into another fit of rage but he did not. Instead, he moved to the rail and leaned over, scanning the waves for any sign of the nymph.

"Lad," Gimli began, moving next to the elf as the ship got underway for Minas Tirith. "She told me to tell you not to worry," he said softly.

Legolas looked at him for several minutes in silence, not trusting his voice enough to speak. He knew Gimli had done as she requested but he had wanted to hold her before returning her to the sea. He should have forbidden her to leave Dunharrow! He should have let her come with him or stayed with her.

Self-doubt gnawed at him even as Gimli and Aragorn murmured words of encouragement. How could they know what he was feeling? Neither of them could even fathom the depths of his despair. Even Aragorn's accident had not tormented him so. He had feared for Aragorn on an intellectual level, frightened for the fate of Middle Earth if the last King of Gondor had fallen. On a personal level he knew Aragorn was mortal and had tried to remind himself of that periodically. Eventually all mortals would pass away.

But Annowe was not mortal and her loss was very personal to him. He had known her for as long as he could remember – longer than he had known almost anyone save his own family. And he had known her much more intimately.

He bit back a sob as he remembered their physical union and the joy he had felt in Dunharrow with her as she lay in his arms. She had given herself to him completely and utterly for his pleasure asking nothing in return save his heart. But his heart had always belonged to her and their union had merely confirmed what both of them already knew.

With a quivering hand, he dashed a tear from his eye and continued to stare out at the dark sea. She was out there somewhere, alive. He had to believe that. If she were lost to him he would certainly not care whether he lived or died. It was a cruel joke that they had finally overcome all other obstacles to be together only to be torn apart at the very end of it.