To everyone – thank you! I will try to reply your mails personally, but it might take some time.

Once again, I have to warn you for the slower pace. Those who will get restless to see Legolas and Irulan together in every chapter, will be disappointed – things will evolve a bit more slower than that. Mainly because I have a lot to build up before the action starts.

Since I know that you will ask – Russel, in my mind, looks like Hugh Jackman. That might be useful, because I think his actions and role will match those looks in this story.

'Every year the same damn thing!' she thought as she reached for the upper shelf. She sighed and began to read the label. "Extra strong...for all aches related to medication...." She sniffed and threw it into her basket, amongst the others. 'Humanity is about to land on Mars but yet we cannot cure the friggin common cold!' was her bitter thought as she shuffled down the aisle.

A few minutes later she was out of the drugstore, the plastic bag in her hand, as she walked down the crowded street. It was evening and she shivered a little as the heat of the outside hit her and settled on her skin. New York was painted in summer colors and gave out joy and giddiness. Things that had nothing to do with Irulan at the moment.

Drifting with far different thoughts, she didn't hear her name called and only woke from her reverie when a hand caught her arm. Startled, she turned, and for a few moments, could seriously not place the face in front of her. "Irulan!" exclaimed the woman, then smiled broader. An instant later she found herself in a gentle, warm embrace.

"Cate?" she managed to say in return, and immediately thought 'How stupid! Of course it's Cate!' "Oh my God!" she added with a higher pitch. "Cate!"

The woman chuckled and pulled Irulan into another soft embrace. "I found you in this crowded city!"

Irulan rolled her eyes, her smile turning into a grin. "Shouldn't be too hard! I'm the only one with the flu in the whole of New York!"

Cate held her hand and squeezed it gently, giving Irulan an overall look. "Look at you! You look fabulous!"

Irulan shook her head at the compliment. At the moment, she knew that she looked far from fabulous. Someone bumped into her and that's when she realized that they were standing in the middle of the sidewalk. She began to walk, pulling Cate along. "Do you have time?" she asked, her eyes scanning the surroundings for a cafe.

"Ah...I have that more than anything else," was the soft reply. Stunned for a moment, she turned to glance at Cate, who wore one of her mysterious smiles. Another grin bloomed on her face. Some things were so hard to get used to! Though Irulan had breached her principles for Cate and Analoth and had played the primary role in the granting of their wish, her mind still hung on to a mortal Cate!

They arrived in a small cafe and sat down to talk. Time flew by as they refreshed memories of old days. Once, Irulan had had a very close relationship with both Cate and Jonathan. It had ended when she returned from England and had thrown all who were somehow related to her bad experiences over there into an attic, then had locked the door. Though they had tried a few times at first (Irulan suspected those trials to be out of sympathy and God knows she didn't want the sympathy of anyone), upon several refusals on her behalf, Cate and Jonathan had seemed to be too busy being in love, to call upon her. And it had made Irulan feel increasingly uneasy and irritated – for she had been afraid to feel envy in the face of it.

"And you? What of you?" Cate asked suddenly, waking Irulan from her daydreaming.

"Me?" Irulan croaked, then wiped her nose with the tissue in her hand. "I'm fine. Much better." She received a long look in return. No wonder, since she looked like trash. "Really!" she added with a silly urge to convince her.

"Irulan," Cate sighed in her usual graceful ways, "I am your friend. I have seen you better. Far better."

"Yeah. When I was 5 pounds less!" she joked, rolling her eyes.

"No," Cate said, smiling with those impossibly grass green eyes shining like emeralds. "Once you looked as fabulous as I thought no woman could ever look."

"Really?" was the dry reply, followed by a sneeze. "When was that?"

"When you came to us that day...when you walked on the lawn, your hands in your pockets." Irulan froze, unable to look up. "That day in England, by Lord Legolas' castle you looked as radiant as the sun, and brighter than the moon." Their eyes met, and for a moment time seemed to freeze for Irulan. Even her sickness moved to the background and became merely a slight buzz of irritation. "What has been taken from you, my friend?" was the solemn addition.

'Ah!' Irulan thought, a dry, bitter humor waking in her. 'To have had a prime, and to have all know it! What torture! Though I may get to clean my own memories, others will never forget. It is a stain that I will never be able to wipe off.' "Nothing has been taken from me," she sighed finally, reminding herself that this was her friend, not a stranger. "Nothing that I haven't given up by my own will."

Cate exhaled and leaned back in her seat. "We talk about it a lot. Analoth and me."

"Please!" she groaned, fishing out another tissue. "You were the only ones left who did NOT put their noses into this affair. I hate to see that change." The other woman only smiled at that and remained silent for a moment. "So how is it?" Irulan countered after a hasty mouthful of her coffee. "Immortality."

It was a rather brazen question, but her urge to divert the topic had been too great. Fortunately Cate only smiled in return. "I don't know," she said and seemed for the first time unsure of herself. This intrigued Irulan, but she kept her silence in hope that her friend would continue. "I haven't really come to grasp it, yet. I mean...it hasn't been long enough for me to observe the things associated with it."

"You mean nobody around you shriveled and died, yet?" was Irulan's dry statement and woke a gasp of shock from the other. "What?" was the mildly innocent question.

"Don't speak so," Cate said a long moment later. Irulan, whose lips were already forming a sly smile, froze at the tone that sounded foreign on someone as gentle and soft as Cate. "Don't...speak so," she replied with a whisper.

"I'm sorry," she said...not sure what she was sorry for. All right, so maybe it was a bit too rude to say it like that...but certainly that was the truth of it.

"I did not choose it to watch my friends and family die." Irulan now began to feel disturbed that her seemingly harmless sarcasm had somehow injured her friend, making Cate speak in such a bitter tone. Irulan opened her mouth, but got no chance to counter. "I chose it to be with Analoth."

The last sentence came out so small and so weak that for a moment, she felt sure that Cate would cry. Which would be silly, to say the least. What was there to cry about? And yet...there was a certain fear...a doubt in her tone. It was only after several moments of staring at the slim woman before her, who had her eyes fixed on the coffee mug between them, that Irulan began to sense Cate's remorse. It was nothing else but guilt! Guilt to choose the cure for a disease that no one around her would ever survive. "Cate," she began, trying to sound serious and far from sarcastic this time, "I know that. I didn't mean to..."

"No, I know," the other sighed and cut in once more. Very strange for someone as patient as Cate to repeat such intervention. "It's just..." She bit her lip for a moment, "Irulan, would you ever consider it?"

The question caught her completely off-guard. She blinked and stared. Then blinked again. "Consider what?"

"Immortality of course," Cate whispered, as if speaking to a child.

"Oh," she said and stared some more. "I...no."

"But why? You can do so much for humanity!"

"Is it me or this conversation a bit...off-topic?" Irulan said and shifted in her seat with unease.

"I always meant to ask you. But could not bring myself to, for this or that reason. Please...it would mean so much to me to know!"

Now even more nervous, she exhaled in mock frustration. "I told you my answer – no. I don't care about humanity. Hell, I can barely take care of myself!" She grunted with discomfort, throwing a glance around the cafe. "I have no just reason for such a thing," she finished finally.

Cate nodded. "And thus my own discomfort." She looked up to meet Irulan's eyes once more. "You, the heir of a great man and a woman of much skill will not accept it. What is my justification, then, for receiving such a gift?"

"What?" Irulan said, rather baffled. "Wh...That is a ridiculous thing to question!"

"Why should it be?" was her cool reply. "If immortality is a gift to be granted sparingly and wisely...wouldn't it be fair that people like you received it –even ASKED for it- while people like me shouldn't? The truth is," she continued with a tired voice, "I don't know if I did it for the right reasons."

"What stupid gibberish is this?!" she protested. Cate did not reply. "You did the right thing," she tried again, still sounding patient and soft. "You did it for love! What greater reason could there be? You know that love justi..."

She bit her tongue and stilled herself. Cate looked up, then and Irulan did not know how to interpret that look. "Does it really, Irulan?" she said finally. "Does it justify past mistakes? Poor judgment? Blind passion?"

There  it was again! The issue of Legolas. 'EVERYONE is on his side!' Irulan thought, almost bitterly, before she let out a frustrated sigh. "Look Cate..."

"Just answer me."

Their gazes locked again and for a while none spoke. "I don't know, anymore," Irulan said finally, and it came out too flat.

"Yes you do," was Cate's soft reply. Her hand reached out and found Irulan's, gently grasping it. "You do."

The hour after that felt awkward and sullen. Irulan felt disturbed and had no idea why she felt so. Cate, too, seemed a little embarrassed to have shown so much emotion or to have made such bold remarks about Irulan's life. They said their farewells and walked away from each other. Still, the conversation left its residue in her heart. No matter what she did, Irulan could not help but roll the idea of love, duty and immortality around in her mind. Over and over again, until it became something strange and intimidating – a shadow in dark water, a rustle in a forest. She ignored it and walked on, determined not to show her fear in the face of it.

"What on earth is wrong with you?!"

Irulan moaned in frustration and coughed into the crumpled napkin in her hand. "Nothing. Everything is supercool, as you can see, Anne." From the corner of her eye she could see Anne crossing her arms on her chest and she barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "I'm sick, that's all," Irulan said before a flood of scolding could come her way.

"And why, may I ask, is that?" was the dry question.

Irulan sneezed into the napkin, then dragged herself out of the chair to shuffle her way towards the garbage can in the kitchen. She sighed as she sank back into her chair and fished out another tissue from the box. Anne was still giving her a scrutinizing glare, but Irulan pretended to be fascinated by the inscriptions on the paper tissue box.

Finally the blonde woman sighed with frustration and stomped over to the stove. She poured the boiling water into two mugs and placed herbal tea bags inside before she placed one before Irulan and sank into the chair across from her. "What happened, Irulan?" was her late and tired question. "The truth, please."

The brunette threw her a glare. "Okay...this is the thing. It is 90 degrees outside, right? And inside in the office it's like...damn...50! It's freezing! And every time you walk out it's like an invitation to sickness! Heat, cold, heat, cold -..."

"Irulan!" the other cut off, giving her a scolding look over the brim of her own mug.

"It's true, damn it!"

"Stop it already! It may be true but that only explains the coughing and the sneezing." Irulan raised an eyebrow to that. "However," growled Anne and leaned slightly forward, "it doesn't explain your grumpiness. You're obvious efforts at avoiding me. Your obsession to lock yourself into this house!" She threw up her hands in the tiny kitchen. "What do you take me for? I am your best friend. I know every little crevice of that little brain of yours."

"Really?" Irulan asked sheepishly. "How fascinating. Then maybe you also know what I am so DEARLY trying to hide here!" was the mocking addition.

Anne gave her a silent look. "Did you see Legolas lately?"

Irulan almost spit out the tea in her mouth and with the effort of keeping it in, began to cough wildly. Anne neither said, nor did anything and just remained utterly still, watching the other woman battle with herself for minutes. Finally, wheezing from the effort to breathe again, Irulan swallowed a couple of times, sneezed into the napkin, and croaked "WHAT?!"

"Can we please just skip this boring part of you denying and me pressing it out of you?" Irulan gave her a long, agape stare and Anne looked back with raised eyebrows. "When did you see him?"

Irulan shrugged and took another sip from her mug. "A week ago or so."

"I am assuming the usual?" Anne said, biting her cheeks. Irulan regarded her with irritation. "Which means you scolded him as if he were a little child, rejected, refused and declined and then walked away?"

To Anne's surprise the reaction to that was not frustration but...sorrow. Irulan pursed her lips and concentrated on her herbal tea. Thank God she was too sick to taste it-for it seemed to be horrible to say the least.

"Irulan?" Anne nudged much gentler. "What happened?"

"Nothing," she sighed finally. "You are right. That's what happened."

An uncomfortable silence crept between them. They sat there, listening to the passing vehicles to the street and the noises of the summer crowd. They listened to the ticking of the clock and the humming of the refrigerator. To all the foolish, needless things. "I don't think he'll call again," Irulan said finally, almost with a whisper. She did not hear it, but there was something akin to terror in her voice.

"You know he'll never give up," Anne said softly.

Irulan smiled a bitter smile and shook her head. "Not this time. I think it's...over." She swallowed softly and placed the mug on the table between them. It felt over. An era felt gone, completed. A century had turned. A road had been walked upon. A dream had ended upon waking.

"Why do you say that, Irulan?"

She massaged her face and coughed into the tissue again. "I know it is. He is with Amanda now," she finished dryly.

"With WHOM?!"

Irulan blinked and gave the shocked woman a glance. "Some woman. She turned up when we were talking."

Anne gave her a long, disbelieving look. "So? Doesn't mean they are together."

Irulan chuckled a little. "Trust me. They will be."

"That's impossible!" protested the other. "Legolas loves you. Nothing and no one can replace that."

"Who is talking about replacing?" Irulan sighed; annoyed that Anne was prodding her in the matter. "He is moving on, that's all."

"Nonsense! Elves don't 'move on'."

Irulan gave her a long, penetrating look. When she finally spoke, her voice was stern and low. "Yes they do." A moment passed between them. "In fact," she sighed, slightly leaning over the table to play with her mug, "they are masters in moving on. That's how they survive. How they survive everything and everyone."

Their eyes met again and Irulan almost felt amused by the heavy disbelief in her friend's gaze. How much faith she had in Legolas! And rightly so, too.

"I simply don't believe it," Anne waved the argument away finally. "Lord Legolas is not like that."

"Believe what you will," Irulan sneezed and got up to throw out her tissue. "I KNOW it. I...I feel it," she finished with a whisper.

"How so?" Anne whispered incredulously.

Irulan retrieved another tissue, blew her nose into it and shrugged once more. "He is beginning to give up on me. In his heart, I mean. I can feel it." No need to say that said feeling was not as pleasant as it sounded. No need to explain that it brought a good amount of pain with it.

"Not that I can BLAME him!!" Anne yelled finally and the unexpected sound made Irulan jump and bang her leg against the table. "Enough Irulan! I mean...ENOUGH! If you can't find it in yourself to forgive him after all he has done...you are not the person I thought you were!"

"I forgave him AGES ago!" Irulan yelled back finally, feeling the blood rush to her face.

"Oh THAT must be why you were treating him so nicely!"

"I can't be with him, Anne! I can't!"

"Why the hell not?!"

"Because....because I can't!"

"You better explain this to me!" Anne growled and Irulan looked up to see a rather dangerous expression on her face. An expression that said that Anne was at the end of her patience.

"Look," Irulan sighed, trying not to look too intimidated, "...elves are...they are so passionate! And so dominating! I mean...you KNOW that! You know that with Legolas it's either black or white. It's never a little of this and a little of that. Never!" She only received a passive look in return. "I know what you think. He is gorgeous. He is an elf. He is in love with me – bam, the problem is no more! I swear at times I feel like NO ONE understands me."

"Then MAKE me understand," Anne whispered hotly, leaning towards her.

Irulan gave her a long look. "You know me better than any other human being on this planet," she murmured, her gaze taking in the determined expression of Anne. "And yet you don't see me for what I am. You don't see how hard it is for me to give up being 'me'." Anne opened her mouth for a reply, but Irulan was faster. "No! It IS giving up myself! You refuse to see Legolas for what he really is, but that doesn't change the truth, Anne."

"What is he?" was the tired question. "All I see is a man in love."

"Wrong!" Irulan exclaimed. "Wrong! Right there, you have betrayed yourself! Because you insist on seeing the man in him. But he is no man!" Their eyes locked again and Anne was baffled by the anger in those brown orbs. Never before had she thought how much it must hurt Irulan to be so judged by her best friend, who had no experience with elves on this level. And now that she discovered it, a certain shame rose in her. Anne knew nothing about elves! Nothing on this sort of a personal level, anyway. And she knew almost nothing about Irulan's relationship with Legolas. Other than the fact that he was obsessed with her and that Irulan was obsessed with her independence, that is.

Of course the dreadful happenings with Baeron were no secret to her. And God knows it had cost Anne enough begging to re-establish her relationship with Irulan on trusted grounds, once more. Irulan had been very cold and withdrawn for a very long time, especially with people who were in this or that way related to the incident. She had avoided all elves and even Anne, simply because she was furious, heartbroken and afraid and wanted to stuff Baeron's memory as far away as possible to grant herself a tiny corner to heal.

First, that had seemed absurd to Anne. She had even felt a bit jealous – after all, who was Baeron to Irulan that Anne was not? Anne had been with her for more than half her life, knew every little mesmerizing and irritating fact about Irulan and had shuffled through life either carrying her, or being carried by her. Baeron was just an elf who had spent a few days with HER best friend. But then Haldir had explained to her what Sharing could do and how Irulan and Baeron had established a bond under Legolas' frightening shadow that was far more than anyone would give credit for. He had opened a window into her life and to her, he had been a savior when everyone else had manipulated her – and that "everyone" of course, included Anne. Anne could not object to that. After all, Baeron had probably been the only person who kept complete and absolute honesty with Irulan – no matter how short the time span.

Anne had decided to wait, then. She had watched Irulan lean more and more on Russel – her other oldest friend (though not as old as Anne), probably because he had no clue of the happenings and represented an avenue that was clean from those incidents. Anne, Russel and Irulan were inseparable. They always had been. And it seemed like no matter what, they always would be. So in time, Anne was allowed into the circle as well and their friendship as a trio had grown stronger for it. Plus, no need to mention that even though Russel was incredibly close to both Irulan and Anne, he was still a step farther back, for he knew nothing of elves and Irulan's heritage. Of her crisis he only knew that Irulan had had an affair with a certain Heath Greenleaf and that it had ended with the death of another guy, Adam Greymane. Too loyal in his bonds, he would never come out to dig up an investigation or anything of that sort, so it had been all right to tell him. But telling the nature of elves? Now that was too big a secret to tell. Even to someone as loyal and close as Russel. Therefore he remained blissfully ignorant to it.

Now that her mind had done a full circle on past matters, Anne realized that all in all, she knew nothing of Legolas and Irulan's intimacy. She knew that Legolas was doing everything in his power to win Irulan back and that Irulan was skirting around his tactics with clumsy, yet effective counter-moves. And often she had only dismissed these efforts as "caprice". Who, in her right mind, wouldn't want a man like Legolas?

It was understandable for strangers to think so. But Anne was no stranger. She should have known better. She should have given Irulan at least the benefit of the doubt and for once tried to understand WHY her friend was fighting as dearly as she was, instead of dismissing it as some female whim. The shame returned and Anne exhaled in frustration, feeling the heat rising in her cheeks. "I'm sorry," she managed finally.

Irulan said nothing and instead, continued talking, oblivious to Anne's baffling discovery of certain facts. "YOU were the one who once urged me to think of myself, of my independence first, and THEN of my relationship with Legolas." True enough! The blonde woman just threw up her arms in a gesture of defeat. "You said that I should set the pace. That I should make the decision. You were right then. You are wrong now."

"All right. Granted. I am wrong. But then....DO set the damn pace, Irulan."

Instead of exploding with fury, Irulan gave her a bitter smile. "And that is, Anne, why you cannot understand me in this matter. Because no matter how many times I have said it, still you will not see that I can NEVER set the pace with someone like Legolas."

The other woman merely nodded, pursing her lips. True enough, Legolas was not an easy matter to handle. He was not a machine that ran on male psychology. He was far more complicated than that. "What is it that you fear so much?"

Irulan sighed and looked into the dark liquid in front of her. "That I will be...I will be some...slave to him." At the aghast expression of her friend, she waved her hand dismissively. "Not a SLAVE perhaps. Wrong word. But..." she exhaled in frustration. "Legolas is so used to having everything his own way! And I don't blame him – it is what he has been experiencing for longer than my mind can conceive! But...I cannot...no – I WILL not be with him because he is irresistible or persuasive or downright dominant. I will only be with him if I feel that I made the choice and that I can undo it if I want to."

"I can understand that," was the slow reply.

"Call me bold, but I want to be an equal to him – not someone he can tuck under his wing, polish with admiration or gently nudge into a luxurious life," Irulan continued, encouraged by the response she was getting. "I don't want him to dazzle me, spoil me to death or exhaust me with his love. I want him to acknowledge me. I want him to see me for what I am, and know that he can only have me if I want it to be so. And that no manipulation in this damn world will ever make that possible!"

"You want him to be a Man," Anne said slowly, understanding dawning on her, "not an elf."

Irulan nodded, a painful expression on her face. "I want him to be a man. Nothing more. But don't you see? Don't you see how unfair it is to ask that? He can never BE a man. He is an elf. Forever. Who am I to demand such an ugly thing from him?" Her expression deepened further and for a moment Anne was afraid that she would start to cry. "Who am I to say 'Forget everything you knew. Undo the man that you are. And be something more to my liking'?!" She locked eyes with her friend once more. "Am I really that selfish, Anne?"

Anne held her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "You are not selfish, you stupid cow," she said gently. This confession was taking too much intensity. She did not want to spin things into an uncomfortable arena. "But you are very greedy, Irulan."

Irulan rolled her eyes in mock frustration and wiped her teary eyes with her sleeve. She seemed glad to have resurfaced from deeper waters. "Right!"

"You are," Anne mused, smiling now. "You want it all. Didn't your mother tell you that you cannot have it all?"

"Oh she did, believe me", was the frustrated sigh.

Anne leaned forward again, the glimmer in her eyes returning. "Of course Legolas isn't perfect! Thank God he isn't! That would be very...scary. The trick is, Irulan, to see the flaws, but to remind yourself that he has far more good things about him to make up for that." She sighed, watching her friend take another sip from the tea. "I understand your fear better now. And I'm sorry for not seeing it before. Typical me."

"Typical", was Irulan's dry reply and made Anne smile again.

"But...try to understand my point too, then. Accept him. Accept him as much as you can and what you cannot accept, let him suffer for it." Irulan laughed despite herself and Anne joined her. "I mean it! Give him a second chance, Irulan. I believe he HAS changed a lot."

"I can't," Irulan murmured, shrugging off her discomfort. "He is gone."

"Would you do so if he returned?"

Irulan locked eyes with Anne. "Don't you dare to-.."

"Hey! No accusations! I asked a simple question. He might never return, fine," Anne said meekly, "but I don't care about that..." What a lie! "...What I care about is YOUR reaction. Would you?"

Irulan didn't answer and bit her lower lip. That was all the answer Anne needed. Both knew that she was lying when she chose to speak again. "What I think is not important anymore, Anne," she sighed almost inaudibly. "The truth is, he deserves better. Far better. I was only torturing him." She locked eyes with her friend and sneezed into the tissue before continuing. "I'll be all right. Legolas will be fine. Trust me...Amanda is a good thing. For the both of us."

'Sure,' Anne thought in amusement as she nodded in pretend confirmation. 'And pigs have wings, lions neigh and elephants are amazingly talented in the art of friggin ballet.'

"Brooding about the intricacies of life again, my Prince?"

A sincere smile spread on his lips. He did not turn right away, letting the joy of her presence come over him. "Who am I to know the intricacies of life, dearest Arwen?"

He turned, then, and there she was. True enough, Arwen was beautiful beyond description. So much that it seemed almost unfair for any creature to be like that. But Legolas rarely saw it anymore. He saw something far more precious whenever his gaze found the Evenstar: He saw who she really WAS. A woman of incredible love and dedication. Fearless and loyal to the core. So tender...like the faintest morning sun and yet so determined, like the foundations of the castle she had chosen to live in.

"You cannot fool me," she said playfully, her smile blooming further. "I know that expression. Aragorn used to practice it often enough." The Prince bowed his head slightly, as if accepting defeat and she laughed a crystal clear laugh, walking up to place her hand in the crook of his arm. "Then he decided to be king, husband and father..." she mused, urging him gently to continue the walk he was having in one of her gardens before she arrived, "...and alas, he was cured absolutely. Since now there is no more time for such idle musings."

"I see where this is going," Legolas chuckled, softly shaking his head. "And I do not like it."

"It takes a lot of hard work and practice to like the truth," Arwen said playfully. The garden opened up before them as they walked in it, with leisure and faint steps. It was immaculate and for a moment Legolas did not know why he liked it here so much more than in the far more extravagant gardens and valleys of Rivendell. The answer was simple and quick – it had no elven air to it. And neither was it a simple, mere human garden. It was a strange mixture and a new breed. And ultimately intimate and warm, like the Princess of Rivendell herself. "So many in the palace adore you," she said, not ready to let go of the matter yet. Legolas smiled to himself. Arwen was younger than he was, but a woman nevertheless – she had married and become a mother and therefore felt like it was her place and duty to guide Legolas through the maze of love. "But you have shown interest in none of them. I can only hope that the reason is another, whom you will not share with us."

"What is this plant?" he said with mock interest, reaching out to touch the leaves of a vine. "I do not recall seeing it before."

Arwen playfully slapped his hand away and he chuckled, giving her his innocent look. "Do not try my patience, dear Prince. Aragorn has used up all of it." Legolas grinned, then. He loved the fact that Arwen, the cold Princess and even frostier Queen, would drop those barriers in his presence and always assume the role of younger, playful sister. First he had believed this to be her usual action whenever she was alone with those she had known for long. But his observations had revealed that Legolas alone had the privilege of such intimacy. And it thrilled him beyond anything. She urged him to continue the stride and he complied, keeping his silence because he knew that it would frustrate her. Arwen, though, didn't sound frustrated when she picked up the conversation once more. "Some say you are too aloof, too vain. That this is the reason why you will not let any woman into your heart. Others say you fear such commitment..." She glanced at him and he looked back, his expression giving no hint. No doubt that these "some" and the suspicious "others" were rather close company, such as Aragorn, Gimli and the hobbits. "I know you better than that."

"Then you must know that I am neither vain, nor afraid," he sighed. "Just not as blessed as you are, perhaps."

Arwen did not reply for a moment. "You are not a warrior first, Legolas," she said slowly. "You are a man. Your fight is over. The war has ended. All your life, you have fought for some cause – whether it be Mirkwood or Middle Earth. Don't you think that you deserve to experience other things, as well?"

"I don't know what else to be," he murmured, his gaze locked to the chiseled path they were treading on. "Again, Arwen, I think I was not as blessed as you are." It was not sarcasm, neither blame. Only the truth. Arwen had grown up as a Princess and though the unrest had stirred in Middle Earth in these latter years, at least most of her life had been the life of comfort and tranquility. Legolas, on the other hand, had grown up as defender of Mirkwood and Mirkwood was nothing like Rivendell – his whole life he had been nothing else but a warrior, a soldier, a man who was under the burden of protecting his land and his people. It had made him into what he was and for that, there was no cure.

She nodded absent-mindedly to that. "But you can change. You can learn. Nothing but peace awaits us now. You are free, my friend."

He halted, inhaling with mild disturbance. True, peace was here. And for a warrior like him, that was a very strange thing – he wanted peace. All his life, he had yearned for it with great passion. But now that he had it, he realized that he was unprepared for such a thing. What good was a man of war and battle in a time that held –thankfully- no violence and no injustice? He had not told anyone, but he felt out of place. Unneeded. Unnecessary. There was Valinor, no doubt. But that was even worse – endless and infinite peace. Something that excluded him, though he yearned for it with childish enthusiasm. He wanted to feel needed. He wanted to feel of some use. He did not know it yet, but it would be the ultimate reason – second only to his overwhelming desire to put a dying friend's heart at ease- that would keep him in Middle Earth while most of his kin left these shores for good.

"Gimli told me you mean to travel with him," she said then, sensing his disturbance and eager to still it.

Legolas smiled again. "With HIM?!" He chuckled, shaking his head. "He offered to come with ME!"

Arwen smiled a bright smile when he laughed and a sigh of relief escaped her lips. "I fear that he will bring back many tales in which he saves your life over and over again, Thandruillion."

The Prince gazed down at her in amusement. "I would be a small victory for our mighty friend. The tales will include a large number of others, rest assured."

She chuckled and took a step back, giving him a long look. "Ah Legolas!" was her statement of a sigh. "How I wish you could share my happiness! You shared so much of me. My fear. My grief. My sorrow. And yet this door seems closed to us."

Legolas smiled, reaching out to her and she took his hand with graceful enthusiasm. "I have hope on my side, Arwen. It does not seem impossible to me that one day a woman might brush away this dirt and dust on me and make something worthy out of me."

"So there is no one yet?!" she said, finally having squeezed the reply out of him.

He groaned in mock frustration. "You are too sly for me."

Arwen waved away the statement. "You have seen me stunned into a grinning fool by the powers of love. It is only a just wish that I see you like that, as well!"

Legolas laughed a clear laugh that echoed in the garden. True enough, he had had enough chances to tease Arwen's incredible infatuation with the Ranger when she seemed to be hopelessly besotted with him. It was only what an elder brother would do to a sister, so he felt no regret. "And here I was, thinking you were concerned for me, when you were concerned for your own cunning pleasures."

"I will be concerned for you till the day I die, you fool," she said then, reverting back to little sister mood from the matchmaking queen and gave him a fierce embrace. How could she know that she would die with only Legolas witnessing it, a different woman from what she was now – bitter and alone? And how could he know that he would watch her passing – and with her, the only true sisterly, deep, affectionate love he had shared for another being?

The garden was bright and the days were long – the pain and parting was too distant predators yet to cast a shadow on their joy. They stood in blissful ignorance of the future, one soul with another, savoring the feeling of loving someone and being loved in return.

-

-

The knock on the door woke him from his reverie. He sat, startled for a moment, and not knowing what that sound was. First off, he had drifted into a very, very distant past and by the looks of it, so effectively, that once again he had surprised himself with the intensity of his daydreaming. 'Is this how elves age?' he thought ruefully. Lately, these episodes of his attention and focus slipping from his grasp have been too many in number and it had begun to irritate him. Secondly...who would knock on his hotel door? A visitor would not be let through and no doubt that the hotel staff itself would have called him instead of marching to his room.

The knock came again and Legolas rose immediately, curious of this visitor.

"Surprise!" she grinned when the door opened.

And it truly was one. His eyes widened slightly, then quickly moved from head to toe and back. "Anne!" was the delightful reply. "Surprise indeed!"

Anne grinned and to Legolas' shock, jumped up to hug him heartily. He chuckled with amusement, then gently embraced her back. "See, I can find people, too!" she laughed into his shoulder, then drew back to give him a good look.

"Please use that skill more often," Legolas said gently. A moment later he stepped away to offer her entrance. "Come in!"

Anne leisurely strode into the living room section of the hotel. She moved to stand in the middle of the chamber and gazed around while Legolas closed the door and waited behind her in polite silence. "Nice room," was all she said and the elf chuckled in response. "I thought you were going to buy a house in New York," she added suddenly, turning to glance at him.

Legolas looked baffled for a moment. But it was a moment only. "Yes, I meant to," he said as he walked to the couch, breaking eye contact. "...but maybe that won't be such a great idea. The hotel surely serves my needs."

He remained politely standing, expecting her to take a seat but Anne just began a lazy stroll in the room instead, inspecting the articles and the pictures on the walls. A long moment passed and it was him who broke the silence. "Haldir must have told you where to find me."

"Hmmmm-mmm," she hummed and continued her tour. "He also called to let the front desk know I was coming and should be allowed to walk up. I wanted to see your face when you opened the door."

"I hope that the reason for your visit is the mere desire to see me again," Legolas said with a beguiling smile. "But if I can aid you in anything, you know that it will be my pleasure."

"Oh I know," she laughed, finally turning to him and giving him a long, overall look. "But...I have come just to see you." Legolas nodded with a blank expression on his face. Though a deft disbelief emanated from him. "You think I came because of Irulan," Anne laughed and the elf looked up, surprised at the remark. She laughed again. "She told me about your last...meeting. But don't worry, my visit has nothing to do with her."

"Oh," he said, then sighed and diverted his eyes.

"As a matter of fact, I think you did the right thing," Anne mused on and approached the chair to sit.

"What would that be?" was his careful question. She sank into the red armchair and he chose to sit on the one across from her, his blue gaze focused on her.

"To give up on her, of course!" was the merry reply.

A sharp stillness overcame the man and Anne sat through it, not diverting her eyes from his gaze. Which was definitely no easy task.

"Is that what she said?" he said finally, his voice low and heavy. There was frustration in his voice. And anger. As well as hurt. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, leaning his elbows on his knees. 'Give up on her' he thought bitterly. How ugly a statement! How idiotic! So unbefitting to the grand feelings they had for each other. So unbefitting to the tender and true love that had bloomed once between them.

"Not really," Anne sighed with mock disinterest and allowed her gaze to wander over the room again. "My deduction. But...like I said - you did the right thing. I mean...there must be MILLIONS of women out there that would appreciate you so much more, Lord Legolas!" Legolas gave her a long, stern, judging look, but kept silent. Anne smiled wider at that. "I mean...people move on, right?"

"I suppose so," was his late reply as he remained as blank as ever.

"Of course they do," Anne said gently, as if speaking to a child. "They give up and they move on." The look that the elf gave her would burn a hole through another, but Anne seemed perfectly oblivious to it. "I always admired elves for their maturity. Our relationships are so...violent. I mean...most men would grow furious and green with envy if their woman chose to be happy with another. But elves are so...understanding and kind!" An exaggerated sigh followed and Legolas chose the moment to deliver a fake, polite smile.

"I understand your concern now," he said finally. He entwined his hands and gave them a long look. A bitter smile came over his lips. Here he was, thinking that Anne had come to convince him for further pursuit! Instead, she wanted him to step out of Irulan's life for good. He swallowed softly, the last remnants of his hope dissolving inside him. "Don't worry," was the more determined addition. "I will not stand in her way any longer."

A short moment passed. It felt so agonizing to sit here and say goodbye. To accept defeat. To come to terms with the fact that true love had brushed by him and would not return. Never again.

"Well that's good then," Anne said slowly, watching the elf with keen interest. "Maybe you are even...MODERN enough to come to the engagement."

"WHAT??!!"

Despite expecting a surprised reaction, Anne almost fell off her chair with the volume of the shout that echoed in the chamber.

Legolas gave her a shocked look that held a certain amount of fury as well. "What engagement?!" he hissed after what seemed like an eternity.

"Well...well I should be...going," she said with a nervous chuckle and rose to leave.

Legolas was looming above her in an instant and Anne had to bite her tongue to keep from crying out in surprise at his speed. "Legolas!" she laughed, now even more nervous, "I thought you said that -..."

"Irulan is getting ENGAGED?" he said, clear disbelief in his tone. "To whom?!"

"Now is a good time to move on and…"

"Nobody is moving anywhere," he hissed, stressing each word. Anne shut her mouth immediately. This was frightening, damn it! All right so perhaps Irulan had been right when she mentioned the unreasonable and uncontrollable passion of elves. Legolas certainly looked both unreasonable and uncontrollable at the moment. "What is going on here?!"

"Nothing!" she said, then took a deep breath and finding it the only thing to do with him standing nose to nose with her, sank back into her seat. "I refuse to talk about it!"

"You refuse?" was the mild awed, gentle question. He slightly cocked his head and gave her a long look.

Anne, instantly remembering that this was no ordinary man and not even an ordinary elf, cleared her throat. "I mean not...not REFUSE maybe but..."

"I don't like being refused," he cut in with a low, careful tone. "I have been refused too many times these last months. My patience is not what it used to be, Anne."

She swallowed softly and watched him return to sink into his seat with catlike grace, his crystal orbs glued to hers. "What is it to you, anyway?!" she seethed suddenly. "You gave up on her!"

Legolas took a deep, slow breath and raised his chin. "What would you have me do?!" he growled finally, his eyes shining with a strange, alien fire. "Should I break into her apartment and kiss her senseless? Maybe then she'll be shocked enough for me to haul her onto my shoulder and carry her to the airport? After that it should be fairly easy to lock her up in the castle, don't you think, Anne?!"

A silent staring issued between them. "Well," she said finally, "now that you've mentioned it..."

Legolas sprang to his feet with impatience and began to pace the room. "I tried all there is to try. Everything! And more! She cannot forgive me. Or rather, she WILL not forgive me. And I can't make her."

"Some great warrior!" Anne huffed and he stopped, once again shocked to immobility at her disregard of his status. "Try harder for God's sake!"

"Harder?!" he said, incredulously. "What should I do?"

"Well I kind of liked that breaking in and kissing scenario."

Legolas bit his cheeks and took a deep breath to calm down. The truth was, he kind of liked that scenario, too. And in his current alarm it sounded more tempting than ever. But certainly that was no solution to the mess they were in. He was just about to say just that when the phone rang. He gave Anne a last glare, then walked over to pick-up the receiver. "Yes?" was the tired question. A moment of silence. "Yes, of course. Don't worry." Another silence. Anne shifted in her seat, giving his back a penetrating look. "No, not at all. I will pick you up at 8 instead." She bit her lip and strained her ears but of course it was impossible to overhear the conversation. "Of course. At 8 then, Amanda. Until then..."

He placed the receiver back and remained as he was, leaning on his hands and exhaling a long, soft breath. A long moment passed before Anne broke it. "Oh NOW I see," she drawled. The man turned to face her, his expression completely blank. "THAT is why you gave up on Irulan!" she added dryly.

"You don't see anything," Legolas said in reply, crossing his arms on his chest. "I never gave up on Irulan. She gave up on me."

Anne nodded slowly, her eyes glued to his. "I better go," was her final statement as she took her bag and made for the door.

"Not yet," Legolas intervened from behind her. "We were talking about the engagement."

She gave him a long frosty look. "I don't think that it concerns you anymore, Legolas. You have obviously more important matters to see to."

Legolas clenched his jaws. It was unbelievable that any woman who knew his real identity dared to talk to him like this! What was more unbelievable, though, was the fact that he was allowing her this! "I decide on what concerns me and what doesn't," he said slowly, his eyes like two pieces of ice.

Anne walked up to him then and if he didn't know better, he would think her attitude threatening. "Very well. For your information," she spat, "it's this guy Russel. An old friend. He always had his eye on Irulan and well...now that she is weak..." she gave Legolas a sidelong glance and smoothly inserted "...and sick..."

"She is sick?!" he exclaimed, a bit bewildered. Anne nodded curtly and then looked away in mock anger. "Why? What is the matter?"

She shrugged with disinterest. "I don't know. She won't tell me."

"What?!" She looked up when he grabbed her elbow. "What do you mean, she doesn't tell you?!"

"Well," she sighed with frustration and took back her arm. "She keeps saying it's the flu. But...the flu in SUMMER?! Please!" No need to say that Irulan got the flu almost every summer. "It sure DOES look like the flu," was her thoughtful addition. But...I don't know...it's been too long. And...ah I don't know! Maybe I'm just making up stories." She glanced at Legolas who was listening to her with horror.

"Why doesn't anyone ever tell me about these things?!" he seethed finally and took a step to stand nose to nose with her again. "I want to see her. Where is she?"

"I'm afraid that's a bad idea."

He gave her a look that would have frozen her soul. If she had one, that is. "I said I want to see her," was the low and threatening warning.

"She is at home, of course," was the mock-exasperated exclamation. "Russel is taking care of her."

It became so dreadfully still in the room that Anne halted and slowly turned to look at the elf. He stood in perfect stillness, but looked like he meant to kill her right there and then. After a long moment of silent staring he moved to grab his wallet.

Anne exhaled a deft breath of relief, but quickly hid her expression when he turned to her once more. "Look...don't say anything in her presence! She doesn't know yet."

"Doesn't know what?" he growled, placing the article in his back pocket.

"Russel told me but she would never suspect it! I mean...they are very old friends." Legolas gave her a long, dry look. "And don't ask him, either," she said hastily, walking up to him to lay a hand on his forearm. "He would kill me!"

For a moment she thought he would say something like "How fitting!" But he merely nodded in return.

Anne sighed again. Should she feel guilty for playing both Irulan and Legolas and this time Russel as well? Especially Russel, who had no interest in Irulan whatsoever and who was about to be crushed like a silly spider? Not at all! "She loves you, you know," she said finally.

Legolas pursed his lips and looked at her hand on his arm. "But she chose another," was all he found to say in his desperation. Irulan was getting engaged! It was the end of the world.

"She didn't!" Anne interrupted hastily. "Not yet. I guess there is still time."

Legolas gave her a wary look and she stared back, swallowing softly. "Tell me that Baeron didn't die for nothing," she hissed finally, an unusual fire in her orbs. The elf froze completely and an expression of utter shock appeared on his features. "Tell me so, Legolas!"

How long time passed he didn't know. But it was enough for him to relive that dreadful era in his head, again. The slice of his life that he had been trying so hard to forget. And that she had unearthed in a matter of seconds. He didn't answer. Instead he walked away and out, as silent and swift as a ghost.