a/n: Enjoy! Sorry, it took me awhile to get this to a decent point. Please review! I'll post a longer chapter in a few days.

Distance to Breathe

She hadn't slept yet. She didn't plan to. Outside, it was still, except for a faint wind that blew the tapestries on her room's walls. Any late merriment from the dining hall faded hours ago. Eomer hadn't come after her, not that she wanted him to.

Really.

He certainly wouldn't, not after what she said.

It was during that fiery, defiant speech to Eowyn that Selanae discovered what had been bothering her. Eomer thought it was guilt. She herself thought so for awhile. But what she felt went further.

Selanae latched a cloak around her and covered her head with the hood. She held her sheathed sword in hand, with a small pack of clothing and essentials. She moved to the window, but turned back to face the door.

Her eyes moved over the door, knowing what type of life lay on the other side. Since she'd met Eomer and those around him, she had been happier, in an odd way. She felt more complete, satisfied with life.

She turned back to the window, and climbed through it.

As she stole a horse from the stables and led it out by hand, her eyes wandered over the city. Each tier was beautiful, but grew more common as she neared the city gates. But it held a loving air, one that she knew Aragorn would nourish as king. He would bring peace and stability to the land.

Eomer would too, for Rohan. Selanae thought there would be harder adjustments for him, but he would succeed. It was part of his character.

And she now turned to life before the war. She knew her mysterious past, and now she would try to control it. Alone. It was better that way. Memories, temptations, disappointments—they all waited for her if she stayed. No, she would stay away now, from anyone. She knew what she was capable of.

She'd fallen before, years ago. Sure, she escaped Mordor. But being at the Black Gate with the Mouth, Sauron, and ever-present evil showed her that she could fall again.

And she had. Only to redeem herself at the last moment.

What no one knew was how she struggled there, inside that dark tower. Fragmented memories flooded her mind there, along with a dark, seething pleasure. She enjoyed torment. She excelled at it. It would have been so easy to forget herself and kill Eomer.

She wouldn't risk that again. Trust wasn't something she granted to many people, and certainly not herself.

The guards at the final gate of Minas Tirith regarded her with caution. She nodded to them, as if she knew them, and they her. After a moment of silent inspection, they opened the gate for her to leave.

Selanae led the horse outside the gate. Immediately, a surge of wind hit her. It was freedom again. But not innocence.

She mounted the horse, much more gracefully than in times past. With a glance over her shoulder, she said a mental goodbye to the city and the people she knew there. She faced the open fields of Pelennor, and gave a nudge to her horse.

She rode away, her cloak rippling in the wind as the horse carried her in a new direction.

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Legolas shook his head. Humans were so irrational. They ran away, played mind games, tortured themselves, etc, etc. But that didn't stop him from being concerned.

He followed after Selanae, staying a good distance behind her. He wanted to see if she'd turn back, realizing she couldn't run forever.

But she didn't. And she didn't seem to know he was behind her. Not until mid-morning, when she happened to look back at just the right angle.

She froze, and then bowed her head guiltily. Legolas smiled and spurred his horse forward.

"I was wondering when you'd discover me," he said lightly. Selanae offered a weak smile. She halted her horse and dismounted. Legolas followed her with his eyes as she made her way to a large boulder near the forest line. She sighed heavily.

"Did Eomer send you?" she asked. She sat up straight, her cloak's hood back and revealing her brown hair and sad eyes. Legolas shook his head.

"He doesn't know you're gone," he said, taking a seat next to her. "Did you have a quarrel?"

She shook her head. "Not really—more of a disagreement."

"About what?"

She hesitated to answer, choosing instead to stare at the trees. But Legolas said nothing. He waited till she was ready.

"About me," she whispered. The elf nodded. He didn't really understand what she meant exactly, but he could guess. Either way, it meant something.

"You know he cares for you, dearly," Legloas blurted out. He prayed Eomer wouldn't figure out he'd said that; the pride of that King of Rohan made him quick to anger. Besides, caring for someone wasn't anything to be ashamed of.

Even so, Selanae's cheeks took on a slightly rosy color. Legolas grinned.

"You didn't know?" the elf asked playfully. She shook her head.

"I . . ." She shook her head again. "It doesn't matter. He'd be safer if I'm not around."

Legolas frowned. "Safer from what?"

"From me."

He'd seen her in action enough to know that Selanae could be dangerous. But her heart and conscience would never allow her skills to be used evilly. She'd tried to not get involved in the war, but she was an integral part. Within her actions, though maybe outwardly cold, was a certain humanity.

"What are you afraid of?" he asked her softly. Selanae shook her head, and stared off, thinking.

Suddenly something caught Legolas's eye. His sharp vision penetrated the forest. Something was moving, quickly, stealthily. His eyes darted back and forth, tracking the movement and looking for anymore.

And there were more.

"Selanae, we need to leave."

"Legolas, I can't go--"

She didn't finish her sentence. Suddenly, the woman and the elf were under attack, swarmed as men roared and surrounded them.