I had the other chapter mostly written before things got bad, but this chapter is all new. I got a couple interesting e-mails… and everyone seems to agree on disliking Thranduil. The poor elven king was just trying to figure out the mortal his son's fallen in love with… can't you give him a break? Besides, it's probably not often he gets a chance to see new things, and Lunian is definitely new to him.

Anyway, on we go! Maybe he was good for something, after all…

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Lunian stared blankly at the fire, some part of her mind wishing it would just consume her. It would be so much easier to simply die than figure out what to do. How she had hoped Legolas would turn from her, how she prayed that her continued distance from him, as she insisted on no more than friendship, would make him doubt.

Human love was a fickle thing. In Gondor she had met a woman who had had three husbands, claiming she had loved each in turn. Her children did not know whom to call daddy.

But the love of the elves, love of the immortals… It was different. It burned within, sustained the torchbearer through fights, illness, separation—anything, as long as there was hope. It chilled with jealousy, sending ice through the veins, froze them when something was wrong.

Why had she not seen that? Why had she insisted on seeing Legolas through the eyes of a human, when she had spent her life trying to see through the eyes of an elf? Even before she knew she was not entirely human and long before she knew how she came to be half-elven—and an orphan—she had wanted to be like the elves. Though that could have been simply a desire to be like those around her, she had never really grown out of it. Her human blood disgusted her, her human features mocked her desire, for she felt like she should have been an elf.

Wishful thinking, she scoffed at the flames. It made no difference how much she wished, she would never be an elf. She was stuck in this form she could feel aging, could feel dying with every breath she took.

Legolas didn't see that, though. He saw the parts of her that were made from her mother, the parts that made her like the elves, like Estel. She had their love of the stars, a little of the wisdom they had in abundance, but none of their years. She was like an elven child. Still unsure where she belonged in the scheme of things, a little uncertain what she wanted to spend her time doing, unknowing about so much in the world that she could only be taught through time or experience, of which she would undoubtedly die without.

Still, it must have been a part of her elf-like person that wished with the heart of a human that Legolas's love would prove unfaithful. If it had, if he had been able to be separated from her, then he could have lived when she died.

The thought of him dying at all frightened her. Frightened? What an understatement. It terrified her. All of the elves were too good, too full of light and laughter, grace and eternity to die. The world would be loosing its greatest gift when they journeyed to the undying lands, a gift the world of men were mostly unaware of now. It was such a shame, really.

A little laugh sounded in her head, followed by the annoying voice she could only silence when she completely avoided thinking. Yes, such a shame indeed! Now, why don't you get back to the real topic at hand, little one? What are you going to do about Legolas?

She sighed and crossed her arms over her chest, clenching the stone tightly. Legolas. Well, what could she do?

You know what to do.

She growled in frustration and turned away from the fire as if it had spoken. Her attempt to keep him away for his own good was pointless now. That did not mean she had to let him close, though.

Come on, get to the truth. I am so tired of you avoiding it.

But avoiding it meant he had a chance.

He will die if he has no hope. Why do you still refuse to give him that hope, when you know it is all he needs from you?

She snorted and looked at the floor. If she gave him hope, but felt nothing, that was so much more cruel than holding him away.

Not that that is a problem.

What was that supposed to mean?

Oh come on. You know precisely what it means. You know as well as I do how you felt when Thranduil said he faded without you.

The feelings flashed over her again. Pain, despair, grief…. All the makings of a broken heart. But that could simply be because she cared about him.

Ha ha, very funny. Cared about him? You are becoming the master of understatement, dearie.

Besides, she had been holding his hand. He obviously had not wanted her to know that little bit of information.

Because he 'cares' about you. He knew you were convinced he would fall out of love with you, and did not wish to cause you the pain knowing it would never happen would cause.

"Oh, shut up!" she snapped aloud, pressing her hand to her head.

I would say make me, but you have to admit the facts before I'll fall silent again. I've been good the last few days.

"Only because I was too dizzy to think." She smirked when the thoughts stopped for an instant. "All right! I'll think about it."

What was it?

Do you really need me to answer that?

No, she sighed softly. So, Legolas loved her. She had known that for a few years now, but it still amazed her.

Okay, I get the point. Now figure out how you feel about him.

"He's my friend," she answered aloud, not really caring any elf passing by could probably hear her having a one-sided conversation with herself. "Arguing with yourself is a sign of insanity," she whispered softly.

Arguing with yourself is fine, she argued back, it's when you start loosing the arguments that you have to worry.

Now who was being funny?

Shut up and think about the elf.

Oh, fine.

Obviously she cared about him.

Hearing a mental laugh, she frowned and amended her statement. Deeply. In the last few years he had been her best friend, supplanting Elrohir in that capacity. The thought of him leaving… to the grey havens, she added hastily, not able to think about him dying a moment longer….cut into her. The world would simply not make sense any more if he was no longer a part of it.

If he were gone forever, what would she do?

The thought of it had her sinking to the side of the bed, wrapping her arms around herself. It would simply not matter what she did. She would have lost her last reason for being. He was her only friend remaining, really, since Arwen and Estel were busy with the demands of ruling and raising a family. Without him, life would become existence. A dull, hazy grey one at that.

Well?

All right! So she loved him.

About damned time.

Wait a minute! Loving him is different from being in love with him.

The voice laughed softly. Nice try, honey, but I'm not buying. You love all of your friends. If he were just a friend, admitting you love him wouldn't be so damned hard.

All of her protests fell silent as she found no way to get around that statement.

Of course not. It's the bald truth.

Boy, she sure had a smart aleck side to her. Why couldn't her little voice sound like Elrond or Elrohir? No, hers had to sound like her at her most human.

Oh come on, you really think a human could have gotten you to fess up?

"You are not an elf, that's for sure." She barely caught herself from saying for damned sure. She'd been talking to herself for too long.

"Then what am I?" a slightly amused, slightly confused voice asked from the doorway.

Lunian spun around, sighing as she drew in a breath. "I'm going to hang a bell on you so I know when you're coming."

"So, if you weren't talking to me…." He trailed off, looking around the room with a slowly arching brow. "Who were you talking to?" he began smiling as she pretended interest in the small flowers painted near the floor.

Finally she gave it up with a sigh. "So I was talking to myself. So what?" she challenged, lifting her gaze back to his.

He was still smiling, and shrugged one shoulder. "Doesn't bother me. But why were you arguing about not being an elf?"

She winced and debated how much to tell him. Then she debated if she should tell him anything at all. "I was… well, I was…" Abruptly she made up her mind. "Forget it."

"Elves never forget, my love." He crooked a brow at her, and then suddenly looked away. "I came to apologize for what my father said."

"It was true, wasn't it?"

"Yes," he agreed, his tone heavy.

"Then why apologize?"

"Because it hurt you," he stated softly, lifting his eyes to hers. She was caught in the emotions flickering beneath the surface. Pain, anger, despair, hope, joy, and love. Oh, the love. It shown so brightly when he looked at her they could use him as a beacon in a storm.

Thus faced with the intensity she had chosen not to see before, she was also forced to accept the depth of the pain she had no doubt caused him. She sank back down on the bed, dropping her eyes away from his.

"Lunian? Are you all right?"

Slowly she shook her head.

"What's wrong?" his voice inched up the scale, becoming higher and sharper even as he moved across the room, dropping to his knees in front of her so he could see her face.

She couldn't bear to see the worry in his eyes, the concern. His love had stripped him bare of his defenses, the wisdom of his years and the ability to cultivate a stony mask all who had so many years generally maintained without thinking about it. She closed her eyes, only some small part of her conscious, and thankfully silent, mind realizing a tear spilled from her lashes. "I'm sorry, Egola." So sorry. She could have killed him with her indifference, when she was far from indifferent.