Well, chapter 44 seemed to basically go over well. As for the whole Gimli thing, some like him, some don't… but he's just visiting, after all. (In other words, gone soon.) I am planning on this spanning the rest of Lunian's life, but I will likely be skipping decades on end. There's not much point in not doing so.

Pippop, what happens? Are you talking about where he sails to the undying lands with Gimli? Because if so, I know… but come on, nothing else in fanfic is perfectly Tolkien based. He may go, he may not… But if he does, Gimli will be going as well.

To answer Lady Jade's question (which has been asked by several through the story) Elrohir is not biologically Lunian's father. He was/is in love with her mother, who was an elf—Lenaith. Lenaith was raped by a human, had Lunian, who has always viewed Elrohir as a father. I've learned a few things since then that would likely negate that idea entirely, but I'm not abandoning this story because of a few problems.

Current Legolas's fate count: 7 die, 9 live.

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"Haven't they anything else to do?" Gimli grumbled.

Lunian smiled slightly. "I doubt it. After all, it is hardly likely they have anything pressing to attend to. Elves are generally leisurely creatures."

"Huh," he huffed, glaring from beneath bushy brows at the elves that were staring at the odd pair as they wandered through the gardens. "Legolas wasn't."

"During the quest, I assume."

"Of course," he growled.

She smiled faintly, knowing he did not like being stared at, and sympathizing completely. "I did say generally. Besides, Legolas was in a different position than elves usually are, where swiftness mattered. Still, he is somewhat hasty for an elf, from what I've seen. He is still young, though. I cannot speak for his conduct in his father's court, for that business leaves me utterly cold and I tend to avoid the throne room at such times."

"Does he always sit with his father?"

"When his father wishes him to. He was not planning on it, especially since you're here and it won't be long before I begin refusing to take long walks outside with him."

"Why would you refuse?"

"My human blood is enough I have to wade through the snow instead of walking over it, most of the time. Once in a while I get lucky, but the experience of plowing through snow drifts is one I do not enjoy repeating. I prefer to remain in the gardens of the palace during the winter."

Gimli snorted in sympathy, and quickened the pace to take them away from the curious and derogatory eyes behind them. She kept up easily, leading him around to a small bench hidden away beneath some weeping willows.

As the day wore easily on the two found common ground in their curiosity. Lunian asked Gimli numerous questions about the dwarves, and Gimli asked a bit about Rivendell, for he wasn't sure what of the elves and humans she would know. After a while, he remembered wondering how she felt about having an elf in love with her, but before he could ask she turned her head towards the path, and a blond-haired prince emerged soon after.

Legolas sent Gimli a quick smile, but his attention was elsewhere. His arms wrapped around Lunian, his head bending to nuzzle her neck, pushing her hair out of the way to do so. "Having a good morning?" he asked softly, his voice barely carrying over to Gimli.

"Why wouldn't we be?" Lunian asked, tilting her head up, her lips brushing against the elf's jaw.

He smiled, his eyes dancing with laughter. "I don't know, but sometimes those raised by elves have a problem with other races."

"Especially if they happen to be elves themselves. The rest of us group together since we feel so inadequate around beings of such intrinsic beauty."

Gimli blinked at her words, wondering if she was entirely serious or partially joking.

Legolas leaned back a bit, frowning slightly as if not sure himself how to take her words. Finally, giving up, he cupped her cheek with his palm and kissed her. He drew her closer, then looked over her head to see Gimli. "Would you care to join me for lunch?"

"Why didn't you say so before, elf?"

Legolas chuckled softly and released Lunian, capturing her hand for the return trip. Gimli frowned, trying to fit the new picture presented to him in his mind. Legolas was a warrior, the elf of the fellowship, the deadliest companion Gimli had traveled with… at least when his quiver was full. Now, though, the calm, poised elf was displaying a side of gentleness, amusement, and an incredible soft spot when it came to the woman beside him… more so than Gimli would have ever imagined possible, but before Legolas and the Lady Galadriel, he had not thought much about or of elves at all.

All through the day and continuing to the evening meal, Gimli watched the two, saw the teasing side of Legolas he had not known existed until Helm's Deep, and even then it was nothing like this. He was about to ask how many years they had been together, but then he noticed something that wiped the question from his mind. Lunian would only look at three people in the room: himself, Legolas, and the king. No one else was treated to her smiles, her laughing eyes…

Just then Gimli noticed the way the elves stared at her. Open dislike was on their faces, distaste as obvious for her as it was for him. They didn't see her as half-elf, merely as human, the reason their prince could someday die. He knew Mirkwood elves were suspicious of outsiders, but this was beyond that, this was nearly hate. He expected it directed towards himself, he was, after all, a dwarf, and there had been bad blood between their races for many years. But Lunian was hardly a dwarf. She was like Aragorn and Legolas combined, full of wisdom and laughter, seriousness and teasing. She had a way about her of looking into someone and knowing how to make them feel better. How could anyone not at least tolerate her?

They didn't. Suddenly he understood the sadness that haunted her except for the rare moments when she was utterly alone with her friends.

He watched impatiently for some elf to appear that had befriended her, but none showed up. As long as Legolas was talking to her, though, she was smiling, content. Thranduil drew his son's attention away, and Gimli watched her eyes darken as she looked quickly at the disapproving faces around her. She diverted her eyes to him, and as they talked her eyes began to clear once more.

Still, Gimli was furious by the time the three walked down the halls to their rooms. "Help me find my way, elf," he growled.

Legolas lifted a brow at him, but kissed Lunian quickly at their door before following Gimli down the hall. "I was meaning to thank you, Gimli," he murmured as Gimli's door closed behind them.

"Me? What for?"

Legolas smiled at the harsh, abrupt tone, thinking how easily dwarves could alienate elves simply by being themselves. "Since you came Lunian has seemed… happier."

"And no wonder."

Gimli smirked as Legolas's attention was immediately focused completely on him. "What do you mean?" he demanded, a frown drawn between his brows.

"With all the elves around except you and your father looking at her like she's an orc, it must be a relief to have someone to talk to when you're busy."

"What are you talking about?"

"For having such keen eyesight, you are completely blind." Gimli growled at the confused elf. "Look at her, watch her for a while. They may have hinted to you someone else would have been more appropriate, but they despise her, and don't try to hide it."

Legolas frowned, and slowly shook his head. "I… I think you're just oversensitive." He didn't deny the elves glared at Gimli, but he was, after all, a dwarf.

Gimli huffed. "Think what you will then, lad. But use your head to take care of her. You have noticed she has been better with me here… do you think it might have something to do with having another person here being given the same evil looks she has probably received for the last few years?"

Legolas shook his head again and left without a word. Gimli couldn't be right. How could anyone dislike Lunian? Especially anyone among the elves? No, Gimli couldn't be right.

Reassuring himself of that one more time, he opened the door to his room. Lunian was sitting on the floor by the foot of the bed, watching the fire flicker up, slowly consuming the logs. She was already dressed for bed, her hair braided to one side, but it was her eyes that caught his attention. Something sad seemed to permeate them, a weariness he didn't understand. Both he had seen in her before, but he had not really considered the cause, as long as she was happy with him.

With a sigh he knelt beside her, drawing her into his arms. He kissed her temple before resting his chin on her head, watching the fire with her for a long moment as he tried to read her emotions. Though he had been working on that since finding out how empathetic she was, he picked up nothing, so he finally moved to see her eyes. Immediately as she looked at him a smile crossed her lips and lit her eyes.

It was what he had seen before that change that struck him. Pain, loneliness, sorrow, misery. A funny little ache settled in his chest, before working down to make his stomach churn.

Lunian frowned and lifted a hand to his cheek. "What's wrong?" she asked, her thumb moving in a soothing arc over his cheekbone.

He closed his eyes, feeling shamed for having failed to see her pain when she so quickly knew his. His life had been heaven, hers had not, and he had not known. Anger started to rise up in him, and he wished to demand to know why she had never said she was unhappy, but the cold truth stopped him. She would have said nothing, because if he knew, he would be concerned and worried about her. She had probably figured he had had enough of both already without adding more. So she had said nothing, suffering in silence.

Her thumb moving brought him back, so he opened his eyes to look at her. She blinked and tilted her head in confusion. "Egola?"

He sighed and cupped her face in his palms. "What troubles you so? Makes your life here so miserable?"

"I am not miserable," she protested at once. "How can I be? I have you."

"But no one else. In Imladris you had Elrohir, Elladan, Elrond, and all the elves around viewed you as their niece or grandchild. Who do you have here? Me? Father? How can two replace Imladris?"

She lowered her gaze to the button of his shirt, one finger tracing around it lazily. "Perhaps they cannot," she finally stated. "But they are enough."

"Are they?" he asked. "Is there no one else who has befriended you? No one you walk through the gardens with?"

"Gimli," she answered immediately, making the ache return.

He sighed and got up, stooping to pick her up as soon as he was on his feet. "Why do you never sit with me when I am in court?"

She snorted softly and shook her head. "Why would anyone wish to sit through that? It is incredibly boring. Land disputes, marriage contracts, petty infractions. I would rather be in the gardens." Her arms wrapped around his neck as he lowered them both into bed. "Why all the questions, my prince?"

Slowly he shook his head. "Nothing, my little one." He slipped his hands beneath her nightgown, letting the warmth of her back help ease the chill of his thoughts. He pulled her closer, burying his nose against her throat. He kissed her collarbone and took a deep breath filled with her scent. "Sleep well, my love."

She smiled at him, her eyes filled with utter love and trust, neither of which he felt he was worthy of at the moment. She blinked, the smile turning to a slight frown as she felt something of his feelings, but he had learned to shield himself out of necessity over the last years if he tried, and he was doing his best. When she gave up trying to figure him out, she smiled faintly once more, leaning across the slight distance that separated them. When her teeth closed around the tip of his ear he moaned softly, his fingers digging into her hip as her gentle assault had the anticipated effect within a heartbeat.

"Looking for trouble?" he asked, his voice barely above a growl.

She wound her arms around his neck as he leaned over her, pinning her against the bed. "Hmm," she murmured, opening her mouth on his jaw. "Did I find it?"

He chuckled low in his throat at the look of anticipation glistening in her partially closed eyes before diverting to kiss her instead of answering immediately. "Whether you wanted to or not," he agreed when he lifted his head.

She shifted beneath him, her hands moving under his shirt to link at the small of his back. "I don't go looking for what I don't want," she assured him, completely unnecessarily as she shifted once more, the suddenly solid contact making him tense and freeze for a long moment. Her breath escaped in silent laughter before she lifted one hand to his face, one lone finger drawing a line down his ear, drawing him irrevocably closer as a shudder raced down his spine.