Chapter Eighteen:

The sun was about to set as Laurel strolled through the gardens in Caras Galadhon. She had made her peace with her fate and had spent most of the day enjoying the sunshine and conversing casually with the locals, that is, the ones that actually gave her the time of day. Some of the elves were suspicious of humans and did not trust Laurel and so kept their distance from her.

She had spent the entire day in the blue gown, despite her usual hatred of dresses. This dress felt different, it was comfortable, breathable, and shifted with her as she moved. She had been hearing whispers among the locals for the past hour and it was obvious that something was going on, but she could not figure out what exactly. Another half hour passed as she watched the sun set from a bench near the fountain Haldir had shown her. Just as she thought about that particular elf, he seemed to appear, as if by magic.

"Beautiful," Haldir breathed as he walked up to the bench. Laurel smiled at him and gestured for him to sit.

"Yes, it is isn't it?" she said, gazing out over the horizon.

"I wasn't speaking of the sunset," the elf said softly. Laurel blushed slightly and turned to look at the marchwarden. He seemed to be giving her much more attention that she had ever received from a male being, and she didn't know what to make of that. She watched as the marchwarden stood from the bench, offering her his hand, to which she accepted. Haldir pulled her to stand and wrapped her hand over his arm, guiding them further into the gardens.

Meanwhile, the fellowship was busy getting settled in their new rooms and then planning to head down to the dining area for a warm meal. Legolas removed his quiver and bow, stowing them atop the wardrobe in his room when he heard Merry and Pip talking outside his window.

"Gee, Pip, that lady down there reminds me of Laurel. So pretty in that blue dress. Even her hair looks the same."

"I know, Merry, I miss her too," Pip consoled his friend as they sat on the platform in the tree, looking out over the gardens. "The marchwarden looks happy. Maybe that's his wife?'" Pip suggested.

Legolas froze in place when he heard their conversation. Haldir, blue dress, woman that looked like Laurel. It couldn't be...

The elf quickly exited his room, looking over the hobbits' heads to the couple strolling through the gardens below. He spotted Haldir walking with a maiden in a deep blue dress, just like the one in his dream. And the hobbits were right to say she looked like Laurel. The way the light of the setting sun shone on those long mahogany tresses that nearly brushed her hips looked exactly like Laurel's hair. He remembered the few opportunities he had had in the past when he ran his fingers through that luxurious hair.

It was when the woman turned her head toward Haldir that Legolas really felt his stomach drop. It was her. It was Laurel. He knew the curve of her face, the freckles that dotted her cheeks, the slope of her small nose and those luscious pink lips that he dreamed of each night. Without another thought, Legolas raced for the stairs, making Merry and Pip jump.

Legolas bounded down the staircases as fast as he could, bolting into the gardens. He searched for where he had seen the two from above and headed in that direction. When he turned a corner and passed a large fountain, he screeched to a halt. There she was, stunning as ever, with Haldir, just like they were in his dream. For a moment he saw red. Legolas felt the Silvan side of his heritage flare up in a rage against the marchwarden. His temperature rose when he saw Haldir's arm around her waist and wanted to put an arrow through the other elf.

Legolas remembered then how his father had taught him to school his emotions, to not let his actions be driven by them. He took a deep breath and calmed himself. It would do no one any good if he were to send the marchwarden to an early grave. Besides, he was here for her, for Laurel. He took a few steps closer to the pair, mustering up the courage to call out to her.

"Laurel," Legolas called softly, standing not ten yards away from the couple. Laurel stopped talking and turned her head toward the voice. When her eyes connected with his, she felt the air leave her lungs and her heart nearly stop.

"Legolas," she breathed. She stood in shock for a few moments until her surprise turned into joy and excitement. "Legolas!" she called out to him, picking up the hem of her dress and breaking into a run toward the woodland elf. A wide smile broke out onto his face as well as he took large, quick steps to meet her halfway and easily scooped her into his arms. Laurel felt happy tears run down her cheeks as she wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him tightly to her.

Legolas felt as if the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders and everything was right in the world once more. He had his arms caging her tightly to his chest and his face buried in her soft hair. When they finally pulled away from each other, Legolas smiled brightly as he cupped her face in his hands, brushing her tears away with his thumbs.

"Melesra ním," he whispered to her, "Why do you cry?" Laurel gazed up into his sky-blue eyes and gave him a watery smile.

"I've missed you, Legolas," she admitted. Before they became separated, that was not something she would have ever considered saying out loud to him. Now, however, time was of the essence and she did not intend to waste it by not saying how she felt.

Legolas had to clench his jaw tightly to keep his own happy and relieved tears reined in. He pulled her back into his chest, tucking her head under his chin and wrapping his arms protectively around her.

"I thought I lost you," he whispered into her hair. He let out a shaky breath and squeezed her a little tighter, remembering the horror he felt when he watched her being dragged into the dark water. Laurel lifted her head to look at him once more and smiled lovingly at the woodland prince.

"I'm here now," she whispered. Legolas could control himself no longer and cupped her face with his right hand while the other arm snaked around her waist. He leaned down to her as she leaned up and their lips connected in a powerful, passionate kiss that had been a long time coming. Laurel wound her arms around Legolas' neck and pressed herself more fully against him, eliciting a small groan from the elf. He felt her soft lips against his and he could swear there was no greater feeling in this world. Their lips moved together in a fiery dance filled with love and joy and relief. Laurel felt her knees go weak beneath her and was thankful that Legolas was holding her up.

He smelled of pine needles and mountain air, a combination she would have burned into her memory for all eternity. She could feel the hard, muscular planes of his body pressed against her as he ravaged her mouth with such intensity. She had never kissed anyone before, but if this is what it was like, then she would do this every chance she got. She sighed contentedly into his kiss as she began to feel a little light-headed.

Laurel finally had to break the kiss to catch her breath, leaning her forehead against Legolas'. They stayed in that position for a few moments before they realized they had gathered an audience. Laurel blushed and ducked her head under his chin once again when she saw the astonished look on Haldir's face. Legolas gave the marchwarden a confident smirk as he turned them to face the fellowship.

"Laurel!" came the combined shouts from the hobbits. Laurel raised her head and smiled brightly when she saw the four halflings barreling toward them. They quickly ambushed her in a giant group hug filled with joyous laughs and happy tears. Laurel glanced over the mob of hobbits to see the surprised faces of Aragorn, Gimli and Boromir. They seemed rooted in place at the sight of her still alive. The three remaining members not enveloped in the hobbit's embrace approached the group.

"Lady Laurel," Boromir began, kneeling in front of the woman with his gaze cast to the ground. "Forgive me, I have been cruel and unkind to you. You did not deserve such treatment and I shall spend every day trying to regain your favor." Laurel's eyes widened at the man's words, slightly shocked and a little confused that he felt so guilty.

"You are forgiven, Lord Boromir," she replied with a compassionate smile, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder. The man from Gondor rose to his feet once again, a happier countenance gracing his features now. A sigh of relived tension left his lungs and he clapped Legolas on the shoulder, giving the elf a knowing look after shifting his gaze to Laurel and then back to the elf.

"Oh, lass! It's so good to have ya back!" Gimli cried as he shoved his way around Aragorn and Boromir. He lumbered up to the woman and elf, the hobbits stepping aside to give him some room. Gimli took both of Laurel's hands in his, squeezing them tightly as his eyes glistened with unshed tears.

"Don't you worry, lassie," Gimli reassured. "No one here will treat ya any differently or under-appreciate ya ever again! Or else they'll have one angry dwarf to deal with!" Laurel smiled at the dwarf, but looked up to Legolas with a confused expression. What did Gimli mean they wouldn't treat her differently? Why would they treat her differently now than before?

Aragorn was the last to approach. He gave the pair a soft smile, happy that his closest friend had the woman he was so infatuated with back in his life.

"It gladdens me to see you alive and well," he addressed Laurel. The woman gave him a soft look in return.

"I am also glad to see you all as well," she replied easily. Laurel cast her gaze beyond their group and to the area around them, not spotting who she was looking for. "Where is Gandalf? I have not seen him yet."

A hush fell over the fellowship at the mention of the wizard. The hobbits held on to each other in comfort and the others simply cast their eyes down to their boots. Laurel felt Legolas' arm wrap around her back and pull her closer to him. She looked up at the elf, seeing sadness in his eyes.

"Gandalf did not make it out of the mines with us," he explained quietly. Laurel felt her heart drop.

"What?" she whispered. But Gandalf was a wizard, how could he not make it out with the rest of them? She opened her mouth to ask what had happened but Legolas beat her to the punch.

"We can talk about the details later perhaps?" Legolas suggested, eyeing the Lórien elves that had gathered around their group to watch the commotion. Laurel nodded in response and turned to where she had left Haldir, but could not see him anywhere. It would seem that the marchwarden had left once he witnessed the obvious affection held between the woodland prince and Laurel.

The fellowship showed her the place they were staying and she followed them up the stairs to the platform that held their rooms. The hobbits had decided to stay together in one room while the others each had their own. Laurel sat down next to Legolas on a log by the fire Sam was building while she waited to hear what had happened to her favorite wizard. Legolas rested his arm around her waist, not having let go of her since they were reunited, and she nervously brushed her long hair over her shoulder.

The elf smiled down at the woman beside him. Out of the corner of his eye, however, he spotted a black marking behind her right ear. One that looked similar to his from the small glimpse he had seen. He felt his heart swell when he realized what that meant. His eyes connected with Aragorn across the fire, who had seen Legolas inspecting the same area on Laurel that his own soul mark resided. The ranger gave him a questioning look and Legolas cracked a small smirk and nodded to the ranger. His friend returned the expression, seeing that now things would be changing between the the couple, hopefully for the better.

Once the fire was sufficiently built and everyone had made a sort of circle around the fire, Aragorn told her of Gandalf's battle with the balrog and the time they had spent in the mines. Laurel thought about the darkness they described and she was glad that she had not had to go with them down there. She didn't know if she would have made it.

There was a palpable hole of sorts where the wizard used to be in their little fellowship of the ring, and it felt wrong to be sitting here without him. Laurel had trusted Gandalf with her most intimate secret and he had believed in her like no one else had. He was to her what Saruman should have been, and she felt his loss keenly.

"How did you get away from the watcher?" came Frodo's voice after a long pause of silence.

"I didn't," Laurel said softly. "He let me go." That admission obviously stirred up suspicion within the group.

"Let you go?" Boromir asked incredulously. Laurel nodded.

"He lifted me out of the water and put me back on the shore. Perhaps I had fallen into the water at some point," she guessed.

"Lass, the watcher was the one that dragged you into that water," Gimli supplied. All heads turned to her as a confused look crept onto her face.

"So..." she hesitated, trying to work out in her mind what could have happened. "How did we get separated?"

"It was my fault," Legolas spoke up. Laurel looked up at him in surprise.

"No, Legolas, it was not," Aragorn countered. Legolas closed his eyes for a brief second and gazed into the fire crackling in front of them.

"I set you down," he looked over to the woman beside him. "I shouldn't have done that. The watcher grabbed you while I was distracted, and before I could react you were gone beneath the surface of the lake."

Laurel watched him as he spoke, witnessing the guilt pass over his features as he recounted the tale. She took his hand in hers and gave it a small squeeze, letting him know that she didn't blame him for what happened.

"So, how did you get away?" Pip took up Frodo's previous question.

"He let me go, Pip," Laurel reiterated.

"Did you use your magic powers?" Merry added with a hopeful look. Laurel's face paled instantly. How did they know? This was certainly not good. She had been trying to go over in her mind the perfect way to tell them when they met up again, but now that was all toast.

"Oh, um..." Laurel stammered. She rose from her seat next to Legolas and started to slowly retreat to where she knew the stairs were.

"Laurel," Legolas stood and reached out for her, drawing a panicked look from the woman at his outstretched hand. It was now clear to the fellowship just how deep this insecurity of hers ran. Laurel had told herself that she would tell them, but now she didn't know what to do. They didn't seem angry with her, or anything that Saruman said would happen if anyone found out. Maybe this would be okay?

Legolas stepped over the log they had been sitting on and took a few steps toward her, holding his hand out to her once more.

"Gandalf told us, melesra ním," he whispered to her, eyes holding nothing but acceptance and encouragement. "He told us that you were afraid of our reactions if we should ever find out, but no one here feels any differently about you. You are cherished and appreciated, I promise you there is nothing to be afraid of."

Laurel took a few deep breaths, mulling over his words before she gave a slight nod and placed her hand in his. Legolas smiled at her as he led her back over to the fire and reclaimed their seats on the log.

"Well," she sighed, looking around at the group, "I guess I have a lot of explaining to do."

"Melesra ním" = My love (Silvan tongue)