"Do you have everything?"

"Yes, it's all packed. The rest will be there at the camps and hospitals."

"When will you leave?"

"Tomorrow morning, quite early I am afraid. I have to be on time to catch my flight. I am going to the airport by train, to make it easier."

"Please…"

"Please what?"

"Please don't go!"

"Arwen…"

"No, please! I beg you!"

"Arwen my love, try to understand, I have to go."

"No you don't, you think you have to go, nobody else thinks that, I don't think that."

"Arwen…" Aragorn reached out to her, holding her hand and pulling her close. His grey blue eyes met her tearing ocean ones.

"Is there really nothing I can do to stop you?"

"I am afraid not. I know this is hard for you, it is hard for me too, but it's my duty."

"It's not your duty. Did Denethor ask you to go or Faramir?"

"No they didn't."

"Then why Aragorn, why?"

"I promised him myself." Arwen took a step back in shock.

"What?" She asked, her voice high and Aragorn sighed.

"When Boromir left, he seemed weary and tired, but he wanted to fulfil his mission. I told him that if anything would happen I would take over for him. Of course I hadn't expected that would actually happen, and definitely not because of this death." He paused for a second, running a hand through his long waving raven hair. He so hoped she would understand that he had to go through with his promise, his gut told him to do so. But he understood her anger and sadness. He felt it as well, and normally he would do anything to be able to stay with her, if only to see her. But things were different and he wanted to part with her in a good way, to make their separation tolerable. He reached behind his neck unfastening the necklace he wore and handed the pendant to her. She looked at him a shock.

"What are you doing?" She breathed, her eyes wide as she saw the shining jewel in his open hand. She had given it to him several years before as a token of her love for him and for luck. Her heart broke at the sight of it in his hand.

"Take it back."

"Why?"

"I am afraid I might lose it, and it's too precious to me for that." She looked at him, stubbornness flooding her eyes. She reached for his hand and closed his fingers around the jewel.

"It was my gift to you. Keep it, you need it more than I do."

"Arwen…" he started is eyes sad. "If I don't come back, promise me…"

"I will promise you nothing!"

"Arwen, there's a chance that…"

"I don't want to hear it! You will come back, don't you dare think of it otherwise."

"I am trying to be realistic here, I don't want to cause you pain."

"Well it's too late for that now Aragorn Strider! You, we, knew from the start that our relationship would be a difficult one, but we have managed this far, and we will manage it further. You cannot expect me to now turn away. Whatever happens I will always love you, and you can't make me do otherwise!"

"You don't understand, I do love you, more than anything, you know that, but I…"

"But you what?"

"Your father…"

"I don't care what my father has to say about this, I want to stay with you!"

"Arwen!" the voice of her father flooded the room. Arwen turned around to look her father's tall strong frame, his long dark brown hair flowing over his shoulders. One usually didn't have to question the love Elrond felt for his youngest child and daughter for it was plain for everyone to see. But right now his stormy blue grey eyes were set hard, with the determined look to reason with his daughter.

"Ada please! Don't encourage him to go! He's like a son to you! Would you let Elladan or Elrohir go too?"

"As much as it pains me, Aragorn is free to choose his own path, just as all my children. I might not agree with everything but I want to support them…"

"Support? Are you suggesting him to give me up? Is that supporting?"

"Arwen!" Elrond raised his voice and within seconds Celebrían appeared, cautiously watching in the background. "I don't want to hurt either of you and as you should know by now, I, we, support you both."

"But…"

"But with Boromir's death we have to be prepared for everything, even you, my child. We've been living in a dream, in a world where nothing can hurt us, but it's time to see the reality." Tears streamed down Arwen's face, breaking the hearts of all in the room and her mother stretched out her hand to her to comfort her baby. But Arwen did move, instead her eyes were hard set on something in the distant, and they could see a battle raging in her head. After several minute she turned herself back to Aragorn, who looked at her sad but lovingly with his silver blue eyes.

Without any second thought or concern of her parents being so near she kissed him full force. Aragorn moved in surprise before engulfing her with his strong arms, returning her passionate embrace. Celebrían smiled softly and amusingly dragged her shocked husband out of the room to give the two the privacy they deserved.

The rest of the night and day Arwen and Aragorn fed of each other passions, savouring every kiss, every stroke, every shiver, and every smile like it could be their last. The night was late when they lay together under the heavy covers, tangled together, her raven hair spilling around them. Her head was on his chest and she delicately played with some of him dark chest hair, while his stroked her face and hair. They didn't have to say anything, and there was nothing more to be said. Aragorn had decided and Arwen reluctantly accepted. Now the only thing that matter of them together like time was standing still.

"Arwen?" He murmured in his deep voice.

"Hmmm?"

"Would you ever want kids?" and she giggled against him her hand travelling to his and she softly started to play with his finger, tracing his palm.

"Yes, I would. Would you?"

"Yes, of course." Then he laughed and she shifted to look at him questioningly. "I was just thinking, mother would force if I wouldn't want them." And Arwen laughed with him, being able to picture a distressed Gilraen demanding grandchildren. She kissed him.

"How many would you want?" She asked cheekily and he laughed, rising an eyebrow.

"That would depend on what you wanted my darling."

"How so very considerate of you."

"I always am." He said smirking with a twinkling in his eye but she didn't respond the way he'd hoped, instead she rolled away from him.

"Not always." She said and Aragorn sighed and then hugged her nuzzling his face in her neck. His hand traced her body until he found her hand and interlaced his fingers with hers.

"Maybe not now but," he said and then turned her around to face him. "But I want to make sure you live in a safe world, and that our children, no matter how many, can grow up in a peaceful and happy one." His eyes bored into hers and after a while she looked away, threading her fingers through his dark mane. Then she gave him a small smile, the smile he had wanted to see on her lips for so long.

"You are a very noble man Aragorn Strider."

"Only for you, my beautiful Evenstar."

In the Mirkwood Estate Thranduil was sitting in his favourite chair by the large fireplace, a full glass of red wine in his hand. He swirled the liquid around, his thoughts elsewhere. He was in fact waiting for a moment to come, a moment that he so desperately dreaded but knew it was going to come eventually. He eyed Lemaril's portrait, looking into her bright eyes that were unknowing and still lived with happiness. He clenched his hand around his glass. He carried a large secret and burden with him these past few years. Elrond was the only one who knew and had advised him to tell, hoping it would aid his recovery, but it just never seemed the right time, and so he carried it. If Thranduil had a choice he'd carry it into his grave.

His musing as interrupted by footsteps descending down the stairs. You could hear a lot by the walk people walked. Thranduil had perfected this observation technique so that he knew what his clients were up to without them telling him themselves. These footsteps he knew were the ones he'd been dreading to hear this entire time. He took a swing of wine as Legolas appeared in the living room. He looked at his son, the jewel of his life, his little green leaf. People were quick to say that Legolas was his mirror, but they were wrong. If one looked at the young man closely they would see that the only thing his son got from him were his blue eyes and darker eyes brows. His face was softer with his mother's mouth and cheekbones. His golden locks were just like hers just like his smile and even his ice blue eyes seemed to still emit the same brightness as her grey ones had done.

Thranduil put his glass done and opened his arms, mentioning for Legolas to sit next to him. He reached for the empty glass beside him and filled it too with wine before handing it to his son. He picked up his own again and looking at each other they clinked their glasses together.

"To your health father." Legolas said.

"To your life, my son." Thranduil replied and they drank.

Several minutes they spend in each other's company in silence before Legolas spoke up.

"You know why I am here." He said; it was more of a statement then a question.

"I do." His father confirmed and Legolas spend some tension leave him. At least he wouldn't have to break the difficult news. He looked at his wine.

"You're not going to stop me?" And Thranduil sighed.

"I could and I would very much like to, but I know it won't make a difference, you'll go regardless." Legolas gave him a small smile.

"That stubbornness you gave me."

"Yes, unfortunately." Legolas put his glass down and reached for his fathers arm, looking at him intensely. It was at times like these that he could see his father was getting older, age reflected in his eyes.

"You know I can't let him go there alone. I have turned down the offers up until now but with Aragorn going, I want to know what is happening there. There's a severe lack of journalist on the ground."

"That's not very surprising now is it?"

"No, but perhaps that makes me even more eager to go."

"Yes, I can understand that, war tends to excite people." Thranduil said bitterly but quickly recovered himself. "Legolas, if you want to go, then I won't stop you. When do you plan to leave?"

"Aragorn leaves tomorrow morning, I will follow him four days later."

"The 22nd of October?"

"Yes."

"On Thorin Durin's birthday." And Legolas chuckled.

"It appears so. How do you remember that?" and Thranduil smiled lightly.

"I am very good at remembering those things, especially that date."

"And why if that one so special?"

"I always make sure I am gone that day so that I have an excuse to refuse a possible invitation." Legolas raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Would Thorin send you an invitation?"

"Oh no, but Mr Grey as pleaded for me to attend, he thinks he might mend the ties." And then Thranduil scoffed at the idea. "Ridiculous." He muttered and his son laughed.

"And so you travel every year just because of that." And Thranduil smirked.

"It's a ugly truth." He then turned serious, his eyes sad. "That means Legolas, that I won't be able to see you off Sunday because I leave tomorrow morning as well."

"Where will you go?"

"Somewhere far away enough." Thranduil answered mysteriously.

Legolas nodded in acceptance and finished his wine in a few quick swallows; he then turned back to his father.

"Then I guess I will say my goodbyes to you now." His father smiled as they both stood up and embraced each other tightly.

"Not goodbyes my son, but good luck." As they separated he held his son's face in his hands.

"Travel safety." He whispered.

"I will."

"Do your best."

"Of course."

"And come back to me alive." With that Legolas looked his father in the eyes with a determined look.

"I promise."

Thranduil released his face, moving his hands to Legolas' shoulders a gripped them firmly.

"I want you to know that I am proud of you." His voice croaked, but he didn't feel any embarrassment and tears filled his son's eyes.

"Thank you Ada."

The men hugged each other once more before letting go. Legolas walked over to his mother's portrait to take his leave of her too. Thranduil walked up to stand beside him. He didn't look at his son when he spoke.

"Legolas, your mother loved you, more than anyone, more than life…"

Legolas looked at him, both sharing a look filled with grief and understanding. Then the young man turned back towards the stairs he'd come from but right before he went up he turned to his father once more.

"Don't tell Tauriel I am leaving. I want to spare her the pain of my departure." Thranduil nodded.

"A wise decision."

"But will you be there for her when she does find out?"

"Of course, I am always there for her, even when she doesn't realized it." And Legolas smiled.

"She's reckless."

"She is indeed." Thranduil returned the smile.

Legolas gave him one last look.

"Good bye father."

"Good luck my son." And with that Legolas turned and walked away, not seeing his father close his eyes in pain, taking a deep shivering breath.