I nearly forgot that I have no time later today to upload chapters--you nearly didn't get one!

Oh, dear!

Anyway, thanks for the reviews, guys--they're appreciated.

Iluvenis: Well... There's not really much I can say. That's just not how this story was written. Sorry if it's troublesome, but all I could do to change any confusion would be to explain it, if you're unsure of something.

CapriceAnn Hedican-Kocur: Well, not in so many words, but you're right, they've admitted it. And hold your horses--the race isn't over yet.

LJP: Thank you... At the moment I'm not making the connection as to what you were right about, but it could be inter-story confusion on my part.

J-girl3: Glad you like it! Yup, I read the Sil one day at my summer internship (obviously they had a lot for me to do).

Alatarial Elf: Hope I covered everything, and if you get confused again, just let me know--review or e-mail is fine.

Chapter 11: Now I frighten you

She opened her eyes after a long moment, and turned her head to see him. Slowly she turned from her back onto her side, head resting on her arm. She watched the wind play in his hair, as it lightly lifted the strands for a moment before setting them down only to grab them again an instant later.

"What?"

"Just thinking."

"While staring at me?"

"Yes," she agreed.

He looked up at her, a faint frown touching his brows for a moment before he finally smiled slightly, shaking his head before turning to his book again. "Does it help?"

"Nope. Completely distracts me, rather."

"Then perhaps you should find something else to stare at."

"Or you could distract me with productive conversation, rather than merely saying anything to stop me from staring."

He sighed, but smiled slightly when she laughed. He set the book aside and leaned back against the trunk, his head angled oddly. "Like what?"

She frowned faintly, then sucked her cheek in, no doubt holding it firmly between her teeth.

He reached out, tugging a bit of her dark hair. "What is it?"

"I… I would like to try and figure out what bothers you more than not, and what isn't as bad."

"So you can begin pushing?" he sighed.

"So I know how to push, without pushing too far," she countered.

"You inadvertently shall."

"I know, but if I have an idea what I can do, it's less likely, and it probably won't be as hard on you."

He looked into her earnest eyes for a moment, and closed his own, wondering when his self-mutilation tendencies had come about. "How do you propose 'figuring' this out?"

"Well, is it worse when you touch someone, or when they touch you?"

He unconsciously flinched. "When they touch me."

She nodded slightly.

"You already knew that."

"Yes. But at least you're admitting it."

"What have I to gain through denial?"

She smiled slightly and sat up. He groaned softly, closing his eyes at this sign of her insistence. "How bad was it when Lunian rested against your knees?"

"Not too bad."

"Against your chest?"

His chest tightened as it had then, and he absently lifted a hand to it. "Worse."

She sighed. "Glorfindel," she complained.

He echoed her. "Carathwan, my legs weren't burnt as badly before I died. I can stand touch there easiest. When she was against my chest it almost felt as though I was being held to him once more."

"Only almost?"

"Yes," he sighed. "It is never as bad."

"Because you avoid touch lasting that long."

He inclined his head slightly.

She looked away, slowly drawing a tight breath. "Where is it the worst for someone else to touch you?"

"I don't know."

"You've avoided it that much?"

"Yes," he agreed harshly, looking away.

She closed her eyes. "What if I were to touch your cheek?"

His head snapped back around, eyes widening slightly.

"Or your hair?"

He flinched.

"Hair, then," she sighed. "It makes some sense, I suppose."

"Not really, since you don't feel with your hair, and it was burned away the fastest."

She cringed slightly, really not liking thinking about his death. That he had died was fine, since he had been returned, but to die in agonized flames was really something else. "So perhaps…"

"Perhaps?"

"Perhaps we should start with you."

"With me?" he echoed, lifting a brow. "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean, perhaps instead of me pushing you, you should try touching me."

"I have touched you. I was the one who carried you inside after you fell from your tree, after all."

"I know. Was that hard?"

He hesitated, then suddenly shook his head. "No." His voice was quiet.

"Why not?"

"Because… you were hurt. Your needs came before my fears."

"So if I had touched you then, you wouldn't have noticed?"

"I would have noticed," he murmured softly, his eyes still slightly widened from this revelation. "But…"

"But it may not have bothered you?"

He shrugged slightly after a moment of silence. "You're not going to fall out of another tree for us to find out."

She smiled faintly, shaking her head. "I know." She got up, picking his book up so she could take the place beside him, facing him, leaning back on her hand, the book on her lap.

"You aren't serious," he murmured.

"Quite."

"But…" he let out a noise and shook his head.

She touched his sleeve, careful not to adjust it so she was pressing into his skin. "Glorfindel," she murmured quietly. "I just want you to try. If you can't, then don't. But try—even one finger against mine without it hurting you is more than enough."

He looked down at her hand, resting over the book, and slowly reached out, his hand shaking a little bit harder the farther he went. When he was almost there, he pulled back. "It's different now."

"Because I'm making you think about it?"

"Yes. If I weren't thinking about it, just ignoring it, I could do it." He started to reach out, but she pulled back.

"No. That does you no good, and isn't fair to me."

He looked away from her, running a hand through his hair.

She looked away with a sigh, gazing out over the…

A smile suddenly formed on her lips. "Come with me." She got up, leaving the book.

"Carathwan?"

"Come on," she insisted, laughing softly at the most likely sheer stupidity of the idea. "Come willingly or I'll pull you by your sleeve," she warned. "Leave it here," she murmured, making him hesitantly drop the book. She walked to the water, and slowly stepped in.

"Carathwan? What are you doing?"

"Getting in the pond."

"I see that. I just don't understand why."

"Come in," she murmured, turning to face him.

"Carathwan…"

"Come on, Findel."

"This is utterly absurd," he grumbled, removing his boots. She waited, rolling her eyes as he methodically removed his shirts, folding them, placing them on a flat stone near his boots. He removed the dagger from around his waist, placing it under his undershirt but over his tunic.

"Are you ready now?" she asked dryly, the water already nearly drawn up her thighs by her skirts.

"You're hardly dressed for a swim," he murmured, looking at her.

"And it's a bit late now to bother changing," she countered. "Now do hurry up."

With a sigh he walked into the water, slowly approaching her.

Just as slowly, she backed away.

He frowned. "Carathwan? What are you doing?"

"Testing an idea," she shrugged, still not sure if this would be positively brilliant or a complete disaster. When he paused, looking at her warily, she sighed. "Please, Findel?"

He echoed her sigh and moved forward once more. "Have I ever told you what a persistent creature you are?"

She smiled faintly, still moving slightly back. She paused when the water lapped gently over her shoulders. "You're taller than I am, so you keep going a little."

He turned so he was still facing her as he moved a bit farther out.

"Stop!" she called, slowly moving towards him.

He looked down at her, blowing a breath out. "What is the point of this?" he asked.

She kept her eyes on his as she slowly reached out in answer, her fingers lightly touching his abdomen, charting the muscular ridges tentatively.

His muscles tensed beneath her touch, as if he braced himself, but his breath blew out suddenly, his eyes widening. "Water?" he spat furiously, his eyes narrowing darkly. "A little bit of water and I'm fine?" he growled.

"No," she shook her head. "You're not fine, Glorfindel. But it is a start."

He made a low noise as she grew more bold, her palms sweeping up to his shoulders, then down his arms.

She started to pull back, but he shook his head, catching her wrists, setting her hands over his shoulders. They watched each other's eyes as he slowly reached up from the water, a streaming hand slowly settling on her cheek, staying there without moving.

He looked away from her eyes only to study his hand, the differences between the skin of his fingers and that of her cheek as he slowly arched his thumb along the soft skin he found there. A low noise escaped his throat when color stole into her ears, then slowly slipped down to stain her cheeks.

She flushed more deeply.

"What?" he asked, lifting a brow. He studied her for a moment when she simply blushed even harder, and let his head fall back on a groan as he made the most likely connection. "Lunian?" he asked, wry amusement escaping in the absent-elf's name.

"She…" Carathwan drew a deep breath. "She said she always loved it when Legolas purred…"

Glorfindel chuckled ruefully. "And you didn't understand?"

"I… still don't, not fully."

"Because you haven't surrendered," he mused, his voice thickening.

She shivered slightly, but nodded. "That is most likely the difference," she squeaked.

A small, decidedly masculine smile turned his lips. "And now I frighten you."

She made an agreeing noise and nodded her head.

He chuckled, resting his temple against hers, relaxing with a sigh.

She watched the sky curiously for a moment, and then closed her eyes, letting the unfamiliar tension ease.