Hey. I wanted to post this since it has been running in my mind for a while. I though the end would be closer, but things keep popping up that need to be adressed. So there it is ! Next chapter, the twins should be back, and happily surprised to find Frances. Cheers !

Frances awoke to the sound of harsh voices conversing in an unknown language. Her head was pounding painfully, and she squeezed her eyes tightly against the bright sun. The slightest of movements made her body ache. Releasing a shaky breath, Frances winced as she turned to the side. Had it been a dream? The sweetest of all, but a dream nonetheless? Eventually, she managed to open her eyes and adjust to the light. Crumbled sheets greeted her sight, but the elf was nowhere to be seen. The wooden planks though, indicated that she was indeed in Legolas' cabin. But where could he be? And what was this agitation outside? The harsh voices shouted at one another; a few elvish words intertwined by hushed tones. Moaning in pain, Frances realised that her skin glistened with sweat. Damn, she was ill, and confused!

The young woman stumbled to a nearby chair, panic rising in her chest at Legolas's absence. Her nightgown was nowhere to be found, leaving her was naked and very exposed. The ship had stopped its graceful swinging. Had they been attacked by pirates? Not that she would be of any help in her state of undress. Nor could she sustain a battle; she was so weary the simple fact of standing used all of her energy. 'That's what you get for swimming two miles in the icy Ocean, you damn girl,' she thought. But it was worth it … so very worth it! Somewhere in a trunk, she found one of Legolas' tunics. His scent immediately surrounded her, and her heart settled. No, his presence was everywhere; it was no dream. The completude she felt, the pure bliss of his bright Feä insider hers taught her everything she needed to know. They physical union had completed the bond. Speaking of which, she reached for the link and was greeted by radiating happiness, as if Legolas' Feä welcomed her into his embrace. Frances sighed. Never before had she felt so complete, so blissful. It was another world experience, and she granted a thought to her counterpart who would never know such happiness. Being loved by an elf could have to equivalent.

A rasping noise came from the door, and Legolas' blond head popped up behind the wooden planks. He was tall; his head nearly brushed the ceiling while Frances had to lift her arms to touch it. Feeling a little self-conscious, from her height and her state of dress, Frances smiled shyly. His radiant smile answered hers, feeding her heart with so much light that her chest heaved.

- "I am glad you are awake Meleth, I was getting worried you might be getting sick."

- "Well. As a matter of fact, I am…"

His lovely features suddenly fell, her name escaping his lips in an anguished cry. He was at her side faster than it took her to blink, taking her hands into his warm ones. The contact caused a shiver to run up her spine; she was not used to being touched so often yet. Not that she minded! His touch was so intense, so sweet that she wanted nothing more than to melt into him. Albeit her body felt exhausted, she wanted him so badly! That elf would be her undoing. Oblivious of her line of thoughts, Legolas' lips graced her forehead to test her temperature, and he frowned. His worry permeated through their bond, swirling like waves of unrestrained anguish. Her eyes wide, Frances breathed deeply to prevent his despair from drowning her. How he feared for her life! So much that it was nearly crippling. How he could sustain such strong emotions without crumbling down was a mystery she had yet to solve. Legolas was strong, stronger than she initially thought if he had survived three years in such a state of agony! Still, she could not let him sink into this pattern; he could not spend his whole life worrying about her well-being. She was no weakling.

Smiling, she caressed his cheek, her fingers dancing slightly over his radiant skin, her hazel gaze conveying reassurance.

- "Do not worry my love, it will get better in a few days. It was quite a strain for my body."

Legolas' strong arms circled her waist, pulling her flush against him, and she rested her heart against his chest. It was the best place in the universe, in all universes and alternate realities! To be hugged by him, to stay close was her own little piece in heaven. She never wanted to let go. Relishing in her own happiness, she willed her solace to permeate her Feä until they both basked in their shared inner light.

- "I will have Estel heal you, all will be well."

Tightening her hold on him, Frances spoke in a soothing voice.

- "Do not worry so, my love. I have not been through this to let go now. And I've seen much worse in the past. It is but a little fever, nothing to fret about."

She lifted her head then, and smoothed the crease that had formed between his eyebrows in a tender gesture.

- "You are mine, Legolas, and I fully intend to spend many a year by your side."

The elvish prince nodded, his expression uneasy. Yet, the bond told her he was not ready to relent. Frances sighed, and gestured for him to sit beside her. Gathering one of his hands in her own, the young woman kissed every knuckle gently, her other hand caressing his wrist. Her touch elicited a low moan from her lover; his tension slowly eased away.

- "Your brightness warms me to the core, Legolas. Our joining, yesterday, it was the most beautiful thing that ever happened in my life…"

His face brightened; eyes lost in the souvenir as his cheeks flushed. There were no words to convey his own bliss, but none were needed. Frances leaned over, and stole a kiss from his soft lips.

- "I love you, you are my light, the reason I open my eyes every morning, the companion of my life. And I will not let you down, ever again."

- "You have not…"

His protests were cut short.

- "Yes, I have. But let us not discuss it now. What I wanted to tell you is that even in my human world, I am resistant. I almost never get sick, and when I do, I brush it off in a few days. My fever can run high, it means my body is raging its own little war with efficiency. But I always recover. I always have. I will always do. And the more elves will be around me, the less sick I am prone to be."

This time, Legolas gaze was confused, and Frances marvelled at the openness of his expressions. During the war, she had always found him pretty impassive, a level-headed façade he had perfectly over the years to hide his true emotions. With her, now, all barriers had been cast away.

- "Whatever can you mean, meleth?"

- "It is a long story of contagion, bacteria, viruses and such. I'll explain in detail later on, right? My world has an extensive knowledge of human diseases, and fortunately, I have been studying it for a while after I got back. I'm sure Estel will be quite happy with the knowledge I acquired recently. For the moment though, I need you to promise that you will stop worrying"

Legolas abruptly stood, his haunted look breaking her heart.

- "Meleth, I cannot promise such a thing… I have not forgotten how you bled to death in my arms. There was so much … so much of your blood."

- "Legolas…"

- "I remember well Helm's deep just as well, you nearly died of an infection then! I was so worried that I would have to bury you when I came back. Now I know what life feels without you, and I do not want to shorten it by the smallest of moments."

A frown marred Frances' face. Truth be told, her elvish mate had a point. A very good point. And her death was a souvenir they would have to exorcise to prevent it from festering.

- "Right," she conceded. "Let us consider I will NOT fling myself unto an orc's blade as of today. I feel your worry, here"

Frances pointed to her chest, Legolas' blue gaze following her movement.

- "Deep down, I know how terrified you are. You cannot live with this weight; we cannot be happy together if your mind always circles around my mortality. Do you see what I mean?"

Legolas nodded, and Frances stood, unsteady. Immediately, the elf crushed her against his chest, supporting her weight so she could rest the petrified muscles of her legs. Raising her face to him, Frances allowed herself to get lost in the contemplation of his flawless features.

- "And for the record, you saved my life that day, by sending me away. A few moments later, and it would have been too late. I never got to thank you for this."

- "Do not thank me for saving your life. You are my wife, your life is mine as much as my life is yours."

Frances' heart leapt into her chest, warmth spreading like a benevolent river through her bloodstream. A huge smile graced her lips.

- "Wife, I love the sound of that."

- "So do I"

His lips found hers again, and very soon, the gentle kiss lost its softness to border on a passionate. How he wanted to make her his, again! sang Legolas' Feä as her tongue caressed his in a heated dance. Just as he lowered his wife on the bed, Gimli's grumbling voice could be heard.

- "So where's the lass! I need to give her a piece of my mind!"

Frances' head fell on the mattress, her shoulders shaking with laughter.

- "Let us head out, and we can get back to this later on."

One last kiss to the tip of her nose, and the elf gathered her in his arms.

- "Yes. I very much fear that the dwarf will march down if we tarry."

The newlyweds climbed the stairs and emerged on deck, finding a flurry of activity surrdounging the ship.

- "Aye! There she is!"

A barrel-chested Gimli suddenly engulfed Frances in a bear hug, laughing and yelling at the same time about her recklessness. Behind him, Aragorn waited, poised like the King he was, waiting for his turn to greet his friend once more. Eventually, Legolas detached the dwarf from his beloved, ordering him to put her down.

- "Be gentle Gimli, her body has sustained a great ordeal, and fever has claimed her from the cold."

As soon as his words were uttered, Aragorn seized Frances' hand and started a thorough examination.

- "What the heck are you wearing lass?" asked Gimli, his eyes roaming over Frances' form.

Legolas smirked as Frances blushed. The seriousness of their discussion had not given him enough time to contemplate her form engulfed in his tunic. He had to admit that it only enhanced her attractiveness.

- "Is that a princely tunic? Well, of all the ridiculous garments I've seen you with, I dare say this is the least appropriate. But fear not, we have your bag here, that seems to contain more funny clothing."

And then, the dwarf's boisterous laugh exploded, making her ears ring as she wondered what her other self might have packed in her bag.

- "Hush Gimli," came Aragorn's stern voice. "Better this than a soaked nightgown. Speaking of which, what were you thinking? You scared me half to death!"

Frances stared back at the King, tucked into Legolas' side for support and very unimpressed by her friend's glare.

- "You know very well was I was thinking, as much as you know that I was right. Wouldn't you have tried, had our situations been reversed and Arwen been on this ship?"

Aragorn's grey eyes softened, and he pulled at Frances to hug her fiercely, surprising her with the strength of his embrace. Then, he kept her at arm's length, his hands secured on her shoulders, his gaze locked to her.

- "The truth is, I would not, for I would have died."

A giggle escaped Frances, and Aragorn released her for Legolas to embrace, his smile widening.

- "It never occurred to me that someone could survive such a fall, and swim against the waves for such a long time."

- "The fall? What fall?"

Gimli's eyes twinkled in mirth, clearly enjoying the appalled look that crossed Legolas' face.

- "I see you have not been graced with the whole tale, my dear pointy ears."

- "We did not have much time to talk, to be honest…"

Shit, what has she said! The dwarf gave Frances a pointed look, grasping her meaning too accurately for her taste, making the young woman redden. Fortunately, Gimli had his heart already set on sharing the story in detail, rather than dig into her intimacy. For this at least she was grateful. Many people through the dwarf dumb because of his boisterous characters and poor manners, but the fellowship knew better. Gimli was subtle when he set his mind to the task, and nothing short of respectful for those he deemed worthy.

- "She jumped from the cliff."

Legolas nearly jumped out of fright.

- "What! Frances, you did not!"

- "She so did!"

The rest was left unsaid, for Aragorn had been adamant that she had committed suicide. Legolas turned to his beloved, his arms safely secured around her waist.

- "Why would you do that, meleth, crossing an ocean was not enough of a risk for you?"

- "I didn't choose when or where I appeared, and it was the fastest way. If I had run all the way down the hill, I might have missed you … and you certainly know the consequences of that. And it gave me a head start on the waves, starting from the cliff. The current is stronger on the beach."

- "Still … you could have been crushed on the rocks. The men of Harad told me of the treacherous currents when the tide goes in"

Aragorn stepped in, relating how Frances had avoided being caught in the waves and made for the high sea. The young woman, shrinking under his praise, could not help but diminish the feat. After all, she was a good swimmer, but nothing exceptional. But in this world where people scarcely knew how to swim, they viewed it as a great feat!

- "Well, I learnt when I was young. Swimming is like biking, you can never forget."

Aragorn's eyebrow lifted in interrogation. It was funny to rediscover the pattern Frances used when they first met, before she adapted to Rivendell's speech. It was all innuendos, short sentences and mentioning devices that they knew nothing about.

- "Surely you will allow me to teach some of you, it is not difficult! Those shores are beautiful, I would so enjoy spending a little time here."

- "You would, wouldn't you?" came Legolas' playful retort.

The elf's gaze drifted to the shores, hearing the seagulls call, and the song of the waves crashing on the cliffs. He remembered the crazy ride from the stone of Erech, and how Frances had told him to not fear the sea. He had known then that she loved it. The elf turned to Aragorn, a question clearly written on his face. The King nodded, a gleam of happiness in his eyes.

- "Aye no! No more jumping from cliffs! You stopped my heart for a moment" came Gimli's plea.

Frances turned to the dwarf, his concern warming her heart.

- "Do not worry, I do not make it a habit…" she answered, souvenirs of an afternoon with her brother on the cliffs of Cassis clearly engraved in her mind. " … not very often anyway. It was just the fastest way. And had you known what I planned, you would have stopped me, right?"

- "Certainly!"

The elf's deep gaze softened, impressed by the gal of her wife. Cupping her face, he deposited a soft kiss to her lips.

- "You never cease to amaze me, meleth nín."

- "Eeew. I have not travelled so far south to be the witness of this."

Legolas turned to Gimli, his eyes twinkling, his glow so bright that the sun itself seemed to pale beside him.

- "You will find that all newlywed couples can be unsettling. By all means Gimli, you should return to Minas Tirith. We shall certainly join you in the summer. What say you, King Elessar?"

- "Newlyweds? When did that happen?"

A shove startled Gimli, and he turned to Aragorn whose smile was directed to their friends.

- "Go to Dol Amroth. Prince Imhrahil will certainly be delighted to see you both. Take some time to heal your wounds, and return to us for the summer feast"

Legolas clasped Aragorn's forearm in a brotherly embrace.

- "Thank you, mellon nín. I am proud to say that I will fulfil my oath."

- "My joy could not be greater, Legolas. I am happy for both or you."

At this, Legolas' expression saddened, and he struggled to let go of Aragorn's hand. There was much regret in his voice as he said:

- "I am sorry that I could not partake in yours, mellon. I will be forever in your debt."

The King dismissed his doubts, washing the subject away.

- "You know I will never hold it against you. Go, be free, make your heart whole again and heal your Feä. Then, we will bring Ithilien back to its former beauty. What say you?"

- "Aye, Aragorn. Hannon le"

Quick farewells were exchanged, and both Gimli and Aragorn left to return to Minas Tirith. Frances, still feverish and a bit stunned, observed their retreating backs from the deck. Locked into Legolas' embrace – she refused to let him out of his sight – she wondered what had happened.

- "What does it mean, my love? Care to enlighten me with your plans?"

Legolas turned the young lady around, and kissed her lips softly.

- "It means that you and I have will spend this month getting reacquainted, on the seaside. I am adamant to learn how to jump from a cliff and battle against the waves!"

Frances' feature lightened in glee, her mouth wide with disbelief.

- "Are you serious? We are having a honeymoon?"

A playful grin graced Legolas' lips before he nuzzled Frances' neck. The contact of his mouth on her skin elicited a shiver, and his breath tickled her earlobe as he murmured.

- "Very serious, although I have no idea what a honeymoon can be."

- "Come inside… I will show you"

His eyes darkening with desire, Legolas swept Frances from her feet, and strode inside the ship for a well-earned bonding time.

Dusk was upon them as Arod climbed the steep road to Dol Amroth's palace. Frances was exhausted and feverish, yet she could not help but gape at its magnificence. And the smell of the sea, the crashing of the waves on the cliff complemented perfectly the feeling of Legolas' body behind hers. So much time had passed since their last ride together, and the young woman couldn't dwell on it; last time, they had been on the way to the black gate, and her death. Still, the pool of sensations was so insanely perfect that it counteracted the soreness of her muscles. Her body practically hummed from happiness, and so did her spirit.

Legolas called at the gates, asking for permission to visit the Prince of Dol Amroth. And still, even if three years had passed since the fall of Sauron, the guards were suspicious.

- "Who asks?" came a strong voice from above the outer wall.

- "Legolas, Prince of Greenwood, and his beloved wife"

A stunned silence greeted this statement, and moments passed where both riders gently swayed in the breeze atop a dancing Arod. The night was descending upon them, and Legolas pulled his cloak around Frances' frame to keep her warm. The young lady hummed her agreement, caressing his hand in thanks. It had been so long since someone had taken care of her in such a loving way. Then the gates opened, and a handsome man literally rushed out, ten guards on his tail. Despite the little time they had spent together, Frances recognised him instantly.

- "Pince Imhrahil !", she cried, straightening on the horse.

Legolas' hand shot out as she swayed, but the young woman could only stare at the man's shocked face. For his grey eyes could not have bulged further as he took in her features. Then a large smile graced his features.

- "My lady Frances! How… When …? What a relief"

Legolas let on an amused snort. Frances being alive would no doubt raise many questions, and this was only the beginning. Yet, he was pleased to see that his wife had gained Imrahil's affections somehow, even after such a shot acquaintance. Little did he know that she reminded him of his daughter Lothiriel, now wed to King Eomer. Then, Prince Imrahil bowed, and Legolas shook his head. They were of even rank, princes both, and on his territory.

- "Please, my lord Imrhahil. Do not bow to us, for we have fought together like brothers. We seek your hospitality, if you will have us, for Frances has caught a fever, and she needs to rest"

Imrahil's brows furrowed, and he approached Arod to help the elf dismount. His guards followed, but said nothing as he glared at them.

- "You are very welcome in Dol Amroth, my friends. Do you require a healer to be fetched?"

- "You have my thanks, but my lady does not think it necessary," said Legolas.

Frances nodded feebly.

- "Rest will do wonders, do not fret on my account. I will be well in no time."

Prince Imrahil nodded, his gaze concerned, but unwilling to disagree with a lady he had thought lost for many years. Then the elf gathered Frances in his arms, and jumped easily down, startling him. Those elves were too lean to possess such strength, but he had not forgotten how, in Minas Tirith, the Prince of Mirkwood had relived him of his burden without flinching, even after a full day of battle. Imrahil led them swiftly, his household bristling about him like fleas, wondering when the elf had got married, and how the lady Frances had survived the battle when everyone had thought her dead. But they would be plenty of time for questioning, for the hour was late, and he settled the elf and his beloved wide in a beautiful room and had a fire running. Then he bade them goodnight.

For two days, Frances lingered in bed, too sore to venture outside. Of Imrahil and his household she saw none, for Legolas insisted on taking care of her. He fetched food and water, ordered baths and carried her there, and prevented anyone from bothering her for that matter. The elf was intent on giving her the time needed to recover. And truth be told, despite the fever, it was a blissful time. Frances slept a lot, most of the time tucked against Legolas' warm body, relishing in the soft hum of his skin in contact with hers. Through their bond came his worries, but most of all his joy at being by her side. As she rested, her body regenerating for the first time in three years, her mind at peace, Legolas wrote letters.

One of them to his father, to inform him that he would not sail after all, his heart filled with joy and hoping that Thrandhuil would share it. One look to his beloved had his heart sing. As hours passed, Frances' features were more peaceful. The radiating light of her fiery spirit regaining her body once more. His worry lessened, understanding what she meant when she told him she was a sturdy woman. Legolas' heart was close to bursting with joy, his light so radiant that even at night his glow lightened the room. Frances had shared a few jokes about it, stating that he was a beacon even when the ambers had definitely run off. Her breathing, at first too quick, was now regaining some semblance of normality. So was her steady heartbeat under his palm. For hours he had kept his hand on her breast, relishing in the life they were offered, in the rhythm of her heart through her chest. Sometimes he could even feel it through his own chest when she lay on top of him, even if those moments took a toll on his restraints. He had not dared joining with her anew, fearing to tire her out, but his desire to bond with her once more was spiking every time she touched him. Soon, very soon, he promised himself.

And incidentally, Frances was starting to wake. The elf leapt from the desk, landing gracefully beside her. Her eyes opened, their hazel searching for his blue ones. As their gaze locked, Legolas knew that he could not be happier. His hand caressed her face of its own accord, fingers relishing in the softness of her skin and the beauty of her flushed cheeks. She smiled radiantly, conveying the depth of her love to him, and the promise that should they be together, nothing but joy could ever grace them. Legolas's heart melted, and closed the gap to kiss her beautiful lips. As her body rose to meet his, the elf knew that it was no use resisting her. Their limbs tangled, core heated and skin moist, both lovers lost themselves in each other in a sensual moment of pure bliss. As gentle as he was, Legolas couldn't control the strength of his love and Frances responded in kind, attuned to his body, living the best moment of her life as he surrounded her, possessed her. She felt complete as he unleashed his passion and relinquished the taunt control over his body, privilege to be the one to manage this mighty feat. And the moment after, when he kissed her anew, his eyes slightly glazed, she surrounded him in her soft arms, and kept him close as he rested his forehead in the crook of her neck. Her hands caressed his silky hair in a soothing move, her fingers light as feathers.

- "I love you Legolas. In this world and the next, I love you with all my might, my body and my soul."

And nothing was truer than this, for even a world apart, her heart refused to let him go. Legolas lifted his head slightly, his soft breath brushing her cheek. The ocean of his gaze captured her, and Frances delved deeper and deeper into his bright soul, losing herself into his light.

- "And I meleth am forever yours."

Frances nodded solemnly. For she knew what forever meant to an elf.