Alright, everyone, thanks VERY much for the reviews. As always, things are terribly nuts around here. Supposedly we have a few days off of classes, but there is so much to do for ALL of our classes that we'd (or I'd) simply be drowning and drinking pure caffine to get things done if I had to deal with classes at the same time. So, I'm sorry this is late, but hopefully things will begin relaxing a bit from here on out. In my life, not the stories.

elvenstar5: Um, well... okay. She was mortal in her past life, and her having a human father wasn't a good thing... considering he raped her mother, beat her, and left her for dead (with a few friends to help, of course).

Lady Anck-su-namun: Well, glad you liked it!

The Hobbit Ivy: I hadn't even noticed I didn't name him until I read your review... LOL!

Elven at Heart: She remembers more everyday, but it will take her a bit longer.

Zeriae: Lunian was mortal, yes--a half-elf, to be precise, but not given the option of immortality as Elrond and Elros were. Her past self's lover was an elf. She was reborn as an elf because although her body was mortal, she herself tended to be more elf-like, in beliefs, desires, etc. I suppose you could think of it as an elven soul in a human body, unable to live long enough in that body to truly be an elf. To know exactly how Legolas fits in, you'll have to either remain patient, or read a previous story of mine entitled 'The Worry Stone'. As for how he knew about her worry stone, he didn't know that she had found it, only that she had remembered it. She told him that on their ride from Thranduil's housing to Elrond's, so he assumed she'd start piecing things together--painful things--and traveled back to be there for her. Does that answer everything (well, everything that won't mess up the plot)? If not, ask again!

Lady in Red: Great to hear from you! I think you're the first to comment on Lenaith's kind of child-like lack of misunderstanding.


Chapter 18

"Why so gloomy, Lunian?"

"Ah, Ethwan. There are so many answers to that question, where do I begin?"

"Well, if you missed me, you can simply stop." He grinned at her, sitting gracelessly next to her on the bench.

"Not really."

"I'm hurt, Lunian. How could you not miss me?"

"The pout is cute, Ethwan, but it makes you look about ten years old, rather than a thousand." She shook her head slightly and wrapped her hands more tightly around the knee she had drawn to her chest.

"And what of you? You've been moping about the place for months, now, and you hardly ever say much of anything to anyone."

"I've been busy, Ethwan."

"Busy staring out into space, you mean."

"Into the memories of my past life," she countered, her irritation rising as the conversation continued.

"What's done is done. You were there, you lived, you died. Now you're alive again. There's nothing in the past for you now, except memories."

"And without memories, we are not who we are."

"Yes," he grumbled. "You are changing, Lunian. Every time I see you I'm struck by how little I feel I know you now. You don't laugh with us at the feasts, don't make fun of us, don't get riled up when we try to make fun of you… It's like you've got a shield around you. Damned irritating. You're almost as bad as the old elves, now."

"I am older than I look, Ethwan."

"Aren't all elves?"

"You know what I mean," she sighed, resting her chin on her knee. "I grew up quite quickly there, quicker than any elf who was not reborn."

"A bit egotistical, I see," he noted, frowning at her.

"No," she sighed softly. "I was half human."

"What?" he stared at her in shock. When she didn't say anything, he jumped up, and began pacing. "You were what?"

She rolled her eyes. "Half elven, half human." When he looked at her askance, she lifted a brow. "Does it matter so much?"

He stopped for a moment, and threw his hand up. "Agh! Don't do that!"

"Do what?" she asked, partially confused but mostly amused by his expressive outburst.

"You look like the prince when you do that—sound like him, too."

"When I do what?"

"That!"

"What?" she frowned at him.

"That eyebrow thing. I know, lots of elves do it, but you… with that perfectly calm voice… so much like him—which is so not like you."

She sighed softly. "I'm sorry if I confuse you, Ethwan. But I confuse myself, too."

"How is that possible?"

"I have memories from being a completely different creature. How can it not be confusing?" She pulled her other knee to her chest, resting her forehead against her legs. She closed her eyes tightly, listening to the leaves rustle like running water above them. A voice from memory called her name, the heart within her rising, overflowing with joy and love as she turned slightly before arms were around her. Her now understandably harsher than elven voice replied happily to his teasing questions.

"Lunian?"

"Hmm?"

"You weren't listening to me, were you?"

"Sorry, no."

Ethwan sighed. "I asked if you would sit with us for the feast tonight, rather than the prince."

"I've already asked Legolas to hold my place."

"Why?"

"Why what?" she frowned, lifting her head.

"Why do you always choose to be with him, rather than us? You ignore everyone around you when he is near."

"I do not."

"Don't you?" he asked, lifting a brow at her.

She started to deny it again, but paused, considering it logically. She would go riding with Tanthien on occasion in the morning… and sometimes spent some time with Nallina or Carathwan in the evenings… but between those two, and often beyond them, she would spend most of her time either alone… or with Legolas. Her eyes widened slightly. "I hadn't realized."

"How could you not?"

"It… it just feels right to be with him," she answered softly. "No doubt because he knew me before, and can explain things I remember."

"You knew Nallina, as well, didn't you?"

She opened her mouth, then closed it. "Yes."

"Yet you choose him, one you have barely known until the ceremony, over the friend you had your entire life!" He huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. "Can you explain that?"

After a long moment, she shook her head. "No."

He blinked at her, then ran a hand through his dark hair. Finally he sighed. "I don't understand, Lunian. I really don't. I feel like I'm losing you… or like I have lost you, because you are no longer the elf I once knew."

"And I may never be again, Ethwan. I may have been mortal, but I was not a foolish child. I grew up quickly, in a time which would age even the elves."

Ethwan looked at her for a long moment before rubbing a hand over his face. Then he sighed, shook his head, and walked away.

Lunian bowed her head, part of her filled with sorrow for his departure… but a larger part didn't care very much. As he had said, she had spent nearly no time with him or the others in the last… it had nearly been a year. A long year, during which she had remembered much of a previous life. She leaned back before any of her more typical senses were aware of him.

Warm arms surrounded her, before he scooted slightly closer, resting his chin on her shoulder for a long moment of silence. He kissed her shoulder as he lifted his head. "How are you, Milady?"

She smiled slightly, relaxed entirely. "You always come when I start to drown in confusion."

"Good." His hand rubbed down her arm, coaxing her to relax farther. He gladly took her weight when she did so. "How are you?"

She closed her eyes, sinking into his embrace until her head was comfortably on his shoulder. "How long will it take, Egola? How many years will pass without my memory returning enough to know… to know who I should be turning to?"

"You can always turn to me, little one."

She let out a murmur of agreement as a sigh. "I know. I think I have always known that, though I didn't understand why." A quiver of anger and annoyance darted through her from some source a small distance away. She turned her head to see Tanthien walking stiffly away. She frowned, wondering idly what had gotten into her friend as she turned slightly, content where she was.