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Lunian reached out and touched the white bark of the tree of Gondor, then sighed softly and kept walking. She had her arms crossed over her middle, as if to keep warm, though the sun took care of that well enough. The being beside her stopped, so she stopped as well, letting her left hand drop down, retrieving her stone, her right hand still closed over her arm.

She wouldn't be able to survive here! It was so horrible! Men, women and children with dull eyes. Already half dead before they had begun to live. She shuddered, closing her first over her stone.

A warm hand closed over her fist and the stone. "Why do you need that?" he asked softly, his thumb smoothing over her knuckles.

She blinked and looked up at Legolas, trying to pull herself back to the world about her. "Wha—" halfway through her question what he had asked sunk in. She looked around the garden, saw the half-strangled plants and cold stone walls, and shivered. "Look at this place."

"It is the home of a king, Lunian."

She began trembling, unable to stop. "What did I do, Legolas? What have I done that Elrond wishes me to remain here? I could not stand it here. How much better to work as a maid for the lowest elf than be treated as a lady in such a place as this." She had to swallow around the constriction in her throat which threatened to cut off her air supply. "Why does he wish me to suffer—"

"Shh." As her voice fell away to tears she was drawn close to a warm, firm body which smelled faintly like the woods after a warm rain. The hand that had been closed around hers shifted, wrapping her arm around his waist before moving to her back, pulling her closer. His left hand cupped her head, holding her against him as she cried, long fingers slipping soothingly through her hair. "You won't be forced into anything. No one would make you stay here," he promised softly.

Legolas held her as the trembling slowly subsided. He closed his eyes and kissed her hair, breathing in her soft scent.

Though he had never thought men were beyond elves, he had not seen the dwelling Aragorn had brought Arwen to as unfavorable. Actually, as far as such things went, it was a very decent place. Especially considering what lived within it.

But she didn't see things that way. She saw the men as crude and coarse, dirty and unrespectable. They were loud and obnoxious, without any self-control or restraint.

He could not fault her viewpoint, for he was often confronted with that reality himself. But she was not an elf. She was a human woman, and this was truly the place she would have belonged, if not for her elven upbringing.

Brought up by elves she had been, however, and the thought of staying among humans sent her into a panic. They had not been in the hall long enough for Arwen to greet all of her family before Lunian had let her hand wander to the small pocket with her worry stone. Instead of letting her get to it, he had led her outside, hoping the gardens would help.

Despite the new plants around her, it had not helped as he could have wished. All it did, really, was give her time to gather her thoughts enough to completely lose her control.

Her tears finally stopped enough she sniffled occasionally. She loosened the strangle hold she'd had on his waist, but didn't step back. Instead she left her head on his shoulder as her breathing slowly returned to normal.

When she straightened to move away he kept her stone hand, the rock caught between their palms as he twined their fingers before she began walking once more, drawing him with her without comment.

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