An-Happy 10th Anniversary everyone! That's right- a week ago, it was officially ten years since we first posted the first chapter of Lord of the Rings 2003 (good God did we suck at coming up with titles!). If you're reading this, thanks so much for sticking with us. You're all amazing.

For the anniversary, I decided to write something else that's depressing. There has been a lot of focus on what the girls felt like after they left, but they're not the only ones who lost. Those left back in Middle Earth lost just as much, and I couldn't help but want to explore how their lives progressed through those seventeen years between the second and third story.

l.l.l.

One Year

It had been a year. A year since the four of them had disappeared in a flash of white light, gone as quickly as they had originally appeared. A year since she had looked up to where he was standing and mouthed goodbye to him. A year that his heart felt like a piece of it was missing.

Legolas had been wandering for it. He had left Minas Tirith the day after she had. He was welcome to stay, but he could barely go back into his –their- room to gather his things, let alone stay there. Minas Tirith, this place where they had spent their happiness moments together, was suffocating now that Niori was gone. Gimli had gone with him at first. They had traveled first through Fanghorn, but despite his desire to explore the ancient forest, they didn't stay long. Along with Gimli, Niori had promised to come back and see this place with him. From there, the two of them had returned to Helm's Deep, because Gimli wanted to see the glittering caverns beneath it, and Legolas had agreed to go with him. There were memories there too, of Niori covered in blood, dying and then surviving, but he stayed this time. It was only after Gimli began to speak of turning the caverns into a great dwarf realm, did Legolas leave.

He didn't know where to go, only that he couldn't go home. The two of them hadn't been discreet in their relationship, and he knew that at least half of Middle Earth would know of them by now. Knew more than he wished probably, given Niori's inability to be subtle or keep private matters private (he always smiled when he remembered some of the things she would say and how she would laugh that mischievous laugh with a wicked look on her face, and how it would embarrass everyone, himself included). If word of his and Niori's relationship hadn't reached Mirkwood directly after the war, then it would have by then.

He wasn't ashamed of her or what they had had. Legolas was proud to have had her, even if it was only for a short time. He was honoured to have had her love. There was nothing about them that he wished to deny or hide. He just didn't want to deal with it, not now. Legolas couldn't handle questions or give explanations, and that was all he would face if he returned to Mirkwood. The wounds were still too raw.

He wandered the shores of Middle Earth, traveling the shorelines from one end to the other. The sea still called to him, its song dulling the pain, but it wasn't enough to soothe him. He had said once that Niori was the siren's song that called to him the strongest, and her absence didn't make that any less true.

While awake, he thought about how much he missed her, but when he slept it was as though she had never left. Legolas dreamt of what their life would have been together had she not left. In his dreams, Niori was laughing and wicked, safe in his arms and facing whatever life threw at them with a grin and a cocked eyebrow. He dreamt of a life amongst the tress of his homeland, of children with his eyes and Niori's beautiful smile. He dreamt of a life full of joy and happiness, of a life he wished he could have more than anything.

The dreams hurt more than being awake and knowing she was gone. The dreams showed him the life he wanted, the life he would have had had Niori not left (and he couldn't stop the stab of resentment, small as it was, when he thought of it, even if he would never admit to it). Oh, he knew that it would not be that easy, knew that there would have been challenges. There were so many differences between the world she knew and his, and the adjustment wouldn't have been easy. Legolas would never have asked Niori to change, but he knew everything about her would be out of place in an Elvish realm.

It wouldn't have been easy, but they would have succeeded. That was what they did- they overcame odds to be together (even if their together had been for such a short time). They would have been happy, because neither of them would have let it end any other way. They were both too stubborn to have it any other way.

He would never understand why she had chosen to return, not knowing what her life was like in her world. She was miserable there, under appreciated and devalued by the ones that should have loved and protected her. If Niori had been another person, it could have broken her long before Legolas met her. Why she would give up a world that accepted her and people that loved her, made no sense.

Legolas asked himself if he would have been able to do what she couldn't, had their situations been reversed. Could he have thrown away this part of his life to be with her? Could he have abandoned Middle Earth for a world as strange as hers? Had the situation been reversed, Legolas thought he would have done it. He though he would have followed her anywhere, and damn the consequences. Legolas thought he would, but he could never be sure. That's why he couldn't blame her in the end. If their situations had been switched, he might have acted the same as she had. Legolas doubted it, but the possibility was still there.

He wondered what she was doing now. He wondered if she was as crippled with pain and loss as he was, and prayed not. She may have left him, but Legolas never wanted Niori to suffer. He knew his prayers would never be answered, not in that regard. He knew Niori, knew that, underneath it all, she was an emotional mess. If it was possible for anyone to take the separation worse than it was, it would be Niori who did it.

Legolas knew she was hurting, and wondered how she was (most likely not) dealing with the pain. He could see it two ways. The first was like him- withdrawing completely and letting the world pass by without any intention of rejoining it. The second -the one he would bet on- was her usual behaviour would reach self destructive levels that not even she had felt before. Legolas loved her, but he was well aware that many of the things she enjoyed -the sex, the drinking-, that made her Niori, were tastes that she had developed to cope. She truly enjoyed them for their own sake, but she used them for escape. Too much of that kind of escape could kill her...Legolas was more than convinced that she was doing just that.

He'd never know. He'd never know what happened to her. He'd never know if she became happy and loved again, or if she was miserable for the rest of her life. He'd know nothing about her, and that knowledge made the pain in his heart even sharper. He was beyond miserable, but there was nothing he could do to fix it. Legolas didn't see it changing anytime soon.

It all came to him in a dream, and it wasn't a surprise for him. His dreams had haunted him for a year, and the anniversary of her departure seemed like the perfect time to be different. Instead of visions of their happy life together, she came to him. Niori was beautiful, all smiles and gentleness...and that was the first thing that told Legolas that something wasn't right. Niori was anything but gentle.

"You're pouting," Niori told him, teasing in her voice, "and it's probably time you stopped."

It looked like Niori, spoke in her voice and even used words that she would, but it wasn't Niori. Legolas couldn't point out a single thing that was wrong with the image, but he knew it wasn't Niori. There was a sense of otherness, of power, that this dream Niori had that the real one didn't.

"You're not listening," she continued to tease, "I'm telling you to lay off the angst."

"You're not Niori," he didn't say it as an accusation, but more absentmindedly as he stared at her. Even if he knew it was a fake, seeing Niori's image made him ache.

She just smiled, bright and mysterious. She didn't reply to his statement, but instead cupped his cheek. Legolas couldn't help but lean into her touch.

"You're in mourning," she continued, stroking his cheek with her thumb, "but it's really a stupid thing to be doing. You're grieving for something that isn't real. Your love isn't dead, and it isn't over. It'll never be over. It's too powerful to end like this. It won't end like this, I promise."

Legolas felt confused, and he didn't understand what he was being told. He knew that his love would never end, but Niori was a world away and with no way back to him. If that wasn't an end, Legolas didn't know what was.

"Wh-" he started, but she put a finger on his lips to keep him silent.

"My promise is only good as long as you let it be," she continued, "right now, you're making it really hard on me. You're walking over the edge of a cliff, doing what you're doing. You're very capable of dying of a broken heart Legolas, and it seems to me that you're trying really hard to do just that. You have to stop this Legolas. You need to live. I promise you happiness, but only if you live."

The last thing he saw before he woke up was her serene smile. When he awoke, he stared up at the dawn coloured sky for a long time. He watched the sky lighten, watched as it became a beautiful day, and made a decision.

It was time to go home.

. .

Three Years

Eomer grit his teeth, doing his best not to snap at his advisors. By the looks on their faces, his advisors were well aware of that fact. This was not the first time he had been forced to listen to this conversation, and he knew it wouldn't be the last. As long as he ignored their 'advice' (which had not become all out demands, at least not yet), they would keep bringing it to him. For three years he had been forced to listen to this. He had a duty, they told him (and kept reminding him). A part of a king's duty was to provide an heir, so that the line of kings wouldn't be broken. The first time had been not even a week after he was crowned King of Rohan, and barely five weeks since Carla had left. He as surprised that they had dared ask that soon. He had just lost the woman he loved, and they expected him to want another? Eomer had not reacted well.

It was nearly a year before anyone brought it up again. It was a year of rebuilding their country and helping Aragorn rebuild his. It was a year they spent bringing the world of men to new glory after the shadow of Sauron had passed. No matter how much they may have wished for the stability that a healthy heir brought, there were too many things happening to make it a priority.

Eomer may have had too much to do, but he never forgot to miss her. Everything he did, he pictured doing it with Carla at his side. It made the pain easier to take, imagining her still with him. Unlike the others (he knew that Legolas had been wandering aimlessly and Frodo had retreated back to the Shire with his son), Eomer couldn't afford to dwell in his pain. He had a kingdom to rebuild, and even three years later it was his main task.

It was when the initial efforts had been successful that the matter had been brought to him again. Perhaps they thought the time spent separated had somehow lessened the love and loyalty he felt for her. Since then, the topic of his needing to sire an heir came up every few months, though it was only recently that they began to actively tell him that he needed to do it, instead of just bringing the topic up. They had even gone so far to suggest potential matches.

Marrying for love was desired, and even encouraged, for rulers. Had Carla been here, no one would have protested making her his queen, from a different world or not (if anyone had had problems, they never would have breathed a word of them). Had he been anyone else, choosing not to marry after losing his love would have been acceptable. Yet Eomer wasn't anyone else, and if a king couldn't marry for love, then he would have to marry for necessity.

"You've spoken of this before," he managed to say patiently, "and my answer has not changed."

They all broke eye contact and looked away awkwardly. The silence stretched on, and Eomer knew there was no more to be said today. Eomer had no problem with that, and though it might have been it might have been a childish impulse, he turned and left the room without another word. No one said anything to try and stop him.

He walked through the halls of Edoras, silently fuming. He was angry that they kept forcing this subject on him, but even more because he knew they were correct. He understood their logic, even understood it to be true, and he hated it. He loved Carla, and wanted no one else. That mattered more to him than responsibility or duty.

When he turned a corner, he was no longer alone. There were two women sitting on one of the benches. When he drew closer, he recognized them as his sister and the Lady Lothiriel of Gondor. They looked up at him as he passed.

Eowyn took one look at his face, and said "Ah. I see they spoke of it again."

Eowyn was visiting, and Faramir had not come with her. Instead, she had brought Lothiriel with her. Her family had been friends with the stewards, and thus had been Faramir's friend from childhood. He had introduced the two women, and despite their differences, Eowyn and Lothiriel had become friends. Eomer had met her before, in Minas Tirith at the end of the war. He liked her and enjoyed her company, even through the misery he felt at that time. He was glad that Eowyn had brought her to see their homeland, even though he was well aware of the mechanisms because of her visit.

Eomer was well aware that his advisors were hoping to strike a match between them. Eowyn was not involved in the plot to see him married and had not brought Lothiriel to Edoras for that point, but others were not above using the situation. Lothiriel had been considered an ideal candidate even before she had come, and he knew they would do their damndest to encourage the match.

"Yes," Eomer replied shortly, not wanting to discuss it any further.

Eowyn nodded with a grimace, but didn't say anything further. Lothiriel was looking over his shoulder, not making eye contact and looking over his shoulder, not making eye contact and looking uncomfortable. He nodded brusquely and continued past them. Eomer was in no mood for conversation, not even with his sister. He was only a hallway away when he heard footsteps coming up behind him.

"Eomer!" He turned at the sound of his name, and found Lothiriel hurrying towards him.

When she reached him, Lothiriel spoke without hesitation, "I need you to know that I know what it is they want, but I have nothing to do with it. I came here with no other plan to accompany Eowyn on her visit."

Eomer had never doubted that. He had never believed that Lothiriel had any part in any schemes, but to hear her speak the words was reassuring.

"I know," Eomer replied honestly, and she looked relieved.

"I'm sorry," she continued, "I wish they would leave me out of this. I have no desire to be used in this way."

"Neither do I," Eomer replied, his voice dry.

"They don't understand. They haven't lost a lover who they love with all their heart. If they knew, they'd not ask this of you so soon," she smiled sadly, "I've known love, and I know loss. We share the same pain, thus I understand exactly what you're going through. I understand not needing to love again, and having loved once being enough."

Lothiriel had lost her husband at the Black Gate. They had only been married a few years, but she had loved him truly and mourned deeply for him. The fact that both of their feelings and grief were being ignored only made it worse.

Eomer ran a hand through his hair, frustrated and conflicted, "They're not going to stop, are they?"

Eomer already knew the answer, but hearing it from someone else would finally make him believe that it would actually happen. Right now, he could deny the truth, but he knew wouldn't be able to much longer.

Lothiriel looked at him in pity, "No," she said simply.

Eomer closed his eyes, and finally accepted it. He could put it off for a little while longer perhaps, but it would have to be done eventually. He was going to have to choose to spend the rest of his life with a woman he didn't love, and choose to put Carla in his past for good.

"It's not betraying her, not if she's not here. If she was, it would be her who you'd ask to marry you," her voice was comforting, "no one has any doubt of that. As admirable as Eowyn is, you still need to produce heirs."

They were the same words that Eomer had been hearing for three years, but coming from her they just made him sad, not furious.

"Tell me do not feel the same guilt at the thought of being with someone else," he said in return.

Lothiriel looked wounded for a moment, and it was true pain and grief, much like his own. Eomer saw the look and understood it, and then it was gone.

"Logic and the heart do not always coincide," she replied, that sad smile on her lips again, "I know that to be my own truth as well, even if I cannot accept it as such right now."

Eomer understood why there were those who wanted them together, and it wasn't sheer politicking. The two of them truly felt the same way, and they understood each other. Two people who had lost their loves, who got along. It was an attempt at kindness inside a necessary evil. They were, in broken ways, perfect for each other at this time. In another life, in a world where he hadn't met Carla, Eomer could imagine himself marrying Lothiriel. He even believed he could have fallen in love with her, had he not already given his heart away completely.

"Do you know why they believe we should marry?" He asked her, curious if she had come to the same conclusion he had.

Lothiriel looked at him in surprise, "I know what you feel, and I accept it. I understand that, and that's why they see me as your best choice. I will not try to win your love, and I will not force you to pretend. You will do the same for me. I know the truth, and will never try to replace her memory with my own, or yours with my husband's. I am not her, and I'm sorry that you cannot have her. Yet with time for use to learn to live with our losses, we could be content together I think, happy even if we allowed ourselves to be. That is why."

Carla was never far from his thoughts, even if the pain had become a dull ache. He missed her, and would always love her. That would never change...but they were right. They were wrong to constantly demand it, but they were right. It was a part of his duty, even if it was one he had no interest in. Rohan needed an heir, and Eomer had to be the one to sire them. It needed to be done, despite what he felt. He couldn't be a man in love, but a king.

"Lothiriel, when the time comes that we are both ready, will you do me the honour of becoming my queen?"

l.l. .

Five Years

Frodo watched out the window of Bag End as Elijah played with the other children around his age. He was the youngest at five years, but from the ecstatic look on his face as he ran up the green, grassy hills outside, that fact wasn't something that bothered his playmates yet. Many of Elijah's 'oddities' hadn't been noticed by the other children, even if the adults had taken motive of them. None of them said anything truly harmful, at least within the hearing of Frodo or his friends. Yet they gossiped, as Hobbits were want to do, and commented on his strangeness, usually while they were talking about the strangeness of the Baggins family as a whole.

Elijah was already taller than the other children he played with, and would take after Erin in that manner. As much as Frodo never wished Elijah to think there was something wrong with being half human, he wished that it wasn't the case. Even now, Hobbits were still inwards looking, and their reactions to differences were not the kindest, whether or not malice was intended or not. As a child, Elijah had yet to notice the talk, but he would when he grew, and Frodo didn't know how he'd react to it. Frodo didn't want Elijah to grow up and think there was anything wrong with him.

Frodo couldn't help but chuckle as she saw his son bravely be the first to tumble down the small hill. At the bottom, an obviously dizzy Elijah staggered to his feet. The little boy was laughing, his face practically glowing.

His height wasn't the only thing Elijah had inherited from Erin. Without a doubt, Elijah had his mother's smile. Every time he saw it, it sent a pang through Frodo.

Five years may have passed, but he missed her more everyday. Everyday, he saw Elijah and he felt the pain of her absence. It was hard, watching Elijah grow and knowing that Erin was missing it all. Every wonderful moment where Elijah wasn't able to experience a mother's love.

Elijah was still too young to realize the acute difference between him and the other children. He obviously knew he had no mother, but had not reached the point of self awareness that made him realize how strange he was in relation to others. One day, complete awareness would hit him, and Elijah would look around and want to know why. He'd come to Frodo and ask why he had no mother like the other children. When that day came, Frodo hoped he had the strength to give Elijah answers.

It hurt so much to talk about Erin, even to those who had shared in the adventure with her. At first there had been so many questions when he had returned to the Shire with a child, and Frodo had been to stricken to answer them. Frodo buried himself in getting his home ready for his son in order to avoid them all and their questions. He all but locked himself and Elijah in Bag End in order to get away from them all. The only way he could deal with it was by forcing the rest of the world out. He had to deal with the mess that was his emotions before he could do anything else. The other three Hobbits had told anyone who asked what happened, and made sure that they left Frodo alone while he grieved.

He was angry that she had left, but that didn't effect how much he loved her. How could she leave? How could she leave him? More importantly, how could she leave Elijah? He was grateful that she had left Elijah with him, but still cried over the double pain he knew Erin felt for losing them both. He understood why she had left Elijah, and knew Erin had seen no other choice. Frodo had been in her world for two months, and had heard them talk about it even after they left. He had listened to Erin's concerns about what was going to happen to her. He knew that people of her world didn't treat women with children and no husband kindly in her world. Erin had sacrificed her own happiness in order to make sure Elijah had the best life possible. Her willingness to put her son's welfare before her own happiness made her love her even more.

While he sorted himself out, the other Hobbits told the whole of the Shire what had happened to them. Frodo still thought they didn't believe most of it, but at least everyone knew that he had loved a human woman named Erin and they had created a child together.

Nearly three months later, when Frodo had dealt with the grief as best he could and come to a point where interaction with others beside his newborn (Sam to a certain extent as well, who had fussed and made sure both he and Elijah were well taken care of, and Merry and Pippin had come to visit, even after it was clear Frodo was in little shape for guests), he left Bag End with his son to introduce him to his fellow Hobbits.

There had been so many questions about her, and Frodo's throat closed up every time he tried to answer. Their questions brought back too many memories, and those memories hurt. It didn't take them long to see they were questions he was not going to answer, and after Sam vehemently told them to, they stopped asking altogether. Elijah was a precious child, and that was enough for most of the Shire to accept it and move on with their lives.

Even five years later, he could still barely speak about her, even to those closest to him. Even with Sam, who had been there for Erin when Frodo had abandoned her. Erin's name came up in conversation because she had played such a large part in their lives. Merry, Pippin and Sam had loved her as well, and it wasn't fair of them to demand they never mention her in his presence. They were still a little hesitant when they said Erin's name, but Frodo was able to laugh with them and listen to stories about the past.

It was so strange. He thought of her constantly, and though there was a dull ache in his chest when he did, Frodo lived with it. It was the same with listening. He could listen to others speak about her, nut when it came to speaking about her, it was like the pain of her leaving was new again. So he just didn't talk about her.

One day, Elijah would come to him with some of those same questions, and Frodo prayed he would be able to answer him. He had promised Erin that Elijah would know that she loved him, that he would make him understand why she had left. He couldn't let Elijah resent her, he couldn't. Frodo had to ignore the pain he felt, because he owed it to both Erin and Elijah. When the time came, Frodo hoped he would be able to do it. At this moment he wasn't sure he could, but surely that would change by the time Elijah began to wonder.

As Frodo watched his son play, he prayed even more that it would never come to that. He prayed that he would not need to have that task, that the truth would not be on his shoulders. He didn't want to be the one responsible for how Elijah would eventually feel for his mother, didn't want to risk a mistake that would make Elijah hate her for leaving.

If only Erin were here, there would be no risk. How could Elijah not love her if she was here? If she was here, all would be well. It was a dream he had, and probably a foolish one. Yet despite it, he didn't believe she was gone forever. Perhaps it was just stubborn refusal on his part, but his heart told him Erin would return one day. Even with every year that passed, he knew she'd be back someday. All Frodo could do was raise their son and wait for her.

.1.

An- First off, in case I didn't make it clear (it is in my mind, but my mind is a confusing mess of a place), the 'Niori' that Legolas sees in his dream is the same 'goddess' that talks to Carla in the third story. She's the one who was pulling all the strings behind the scenes, and Legolas fading away was bad for her plans.

Secondly, before anyone says anything, yes I know that I changed Lothiriel's back story somewhat. Since anything having to do with Dol Amorth and its characters was cut out of the movie, and we followed the movie (it was just easier that way honestly), her back ground wasn't going to fit. Unless I wanted to make a whole back story to add Dol Amorth into the movieverse, Lothiriel's history was going to change some (yes- I was too lazy to do that). So instead of Princess of Dol Amorth, I made her Lady of Gondor. Also, it just wouldn't have made sense for her and Eomer to get together while in Minas Tirith, since Eomer was in love with Carla in our version. So I wrote it this way, and hopefully no one is too pissed off that I did it (if you are, I honestly am sorry!).

On that note- happy anniversary everyone!