Woman of Letters - I am glad you are enjoying the re-write. I began this story and many of these chapters were written while I was angry, depressed and bed-bound, waiting for my spectacularly broken pelvis to fuse itself back together and writing kept me from going too loopy and it was a great pain distract-er :D Reading back over the old stuff has made me cringe a bit but writing this got me through some tough times (as Tolkien things always do) and I am so happy to be able to go back and repair it, make it even better, just like I now am! :) Its also been a good lesson in actually planning a bit more ahead with backstory and where I want everything to end. :D Hope you enjoy the changes to this chap.

Aerlaer awoke an hour before dawn, feeling well rested. As she remembered where she was, she thought back to the events of the evening before as memories came back of dancing with her friends and, she started, sitting up. Dancing with Legolas and then Orophin. Remembering Orophin's declaration and offer, she scrambled up. She needed to think alone. Quietly she gathered belongings, making sure not to make any unnecessary noise, she crept from the mallorn tree.

It was quite early, dawn still perhaps half of an hour off and, no elleth guarded the shallows. Grateful for the exclusivity, Aerlaer shrugged off her dress and plunged into the cool water, hoping it would bring some clarity to her mind. She swam a couple laps, diving beneath the surface, but it did not seem to work. Washing quickly, she left the water, throwing her creamy white dress on in a hurry, deftly tying it before tying up her pewter-blue dress over it and tying the dress she had been wearing the eve before around her waist like a sash.

Her hair, she wrung out but, did not bother waiting for it to dry for there was no sunshine to dry it swiftly. She ran a towel through it once more before placing the used material in a basket and made her way from the shallows. She ran slowly along the riverbank before reaching the bridge, where she shifted into horse form and, with a buck, plunged into the still silvery-shadowed woods on the other side.

Hidden in the tree's canopy of her mother's tree, Aerlaer sighed as she leant against the silvery trunk, holding her legs bent to her chest. She could stay. She would be safe under these trees with or without Orophin's protection. He had shocked her, professing his feelings for her. She did not feel for him the same way. She believed she would fall for another Elf the way her mother had. For is that not love, to look for the first time into another's eyes and know right in that moment they have your heart? That is what her father had said for, that is how it was, how her own parents had fallen in love. Also, how her grandparents had.

No, she did not have such feelings for Orophin. She was not entirely sure how he had decided she possibly did. She had not seen him in some years. She did love Orophin, but as a friend. She sighed again, hoping she could let him down gently. She could not stay. As much as it was meant to be now, this wood was not her home. It never would be. As much as she loved the trees, how could a place which had once held her captive ever be a home?

Now, she had no home. She had pledged herself to the quest, to Frodo, to ensuring the Ring was destroyed. She would not let the Fellowship down. As the sky began to lighten, she hopped out of her mother's tree and returned to the camp area.

The Elves of Lothlórien had arranged a hearty breakfast for the travellers and she gratefully took a plate and filled it before sitting down quietly to not disturb her sleeping companions. There was no question about it she decided. She could not simply walk away from them. She would stick with them until the end. No matter what that end was. Her eyes flickered fondly over the sleeping figures and rested on Legolas.

She marvelled at how innocent and boyish he looked, relaxed in sleep. He lay on his back, chest rising and falling slowly and evenly. She heard a barely audible sigh escape his slightly open lips and her heart jolted unexpectedly, remembering dancing so close to him the evening before. She pushed the strange feeling aside. Too much Elven wine isn't good for anyone. She thought dismissively.

She finished eating and left the others who had just begun to stir and found a wooden bench under tree's not far from the camp area and taking a seat, waited for Orophin, knowing he would undoubtedly come looking for her for he intended they speak. She just hoped he would understand.

…

Legolas awoke feeling well rested. Sitting up, memories of the night before flooded him. He smiled remembering arguing with a drunken Gimli and then his smile faltered. That dance. Oh, what did I do! He recalled everything from the day before; being awoken, running through the sunlit forest and watching the sunset. Her warm touch in the tree and then as he danced with her, her eyes and how the light had lit her hair. Her lips and how he had nearly… He felt a sudden, warm stirring in his chest. No! He staggered to his feet. No. Leaving the camp, he strode swiftly towards the small stream nearby.

Reaching its bank, he fell to his knees, scooping water into his hands, splashing his face. The dawn light hit the water causing it to sparkle a blue-indigo and grey just like… No! He thought furiously. This. Is. Not. Happening. He sprung away from the water to a nearby tree and rested his forehead on it, trying to steady his panicked breathing. "I forbid it" he hissed quietly and the stirring he felt slowly ebbed away. Calmer, he turned to walk slowly back to the camp.

The others had eaten and by the time he returned and, he quickly took an apple, crunching into it as he finished dressing and strapping on weapons. Aerlaer was nowhere in sight and he was glad for it although, it looked as if she had not yet packed for her weapons had not moved. He was checking and waxing his bowstring when he clearly heard her voice, coming from nearby. He gazed up, peering in the direction it had come and, through trees, saw Aerlaer with Orophin.

Curiosity got the better of him and he listened carefully, but there was no need. Oddly, they both spoke loudly and he could understand each word and detected a layer of exasperation in Aerlaer's voice, causing him to frown.

…

Letting down Orophin gently was not going well. She had calmly explained everything twice to him, including her reasons and yet, he stared at her disbelieving. Finally he spoke and his voice was tinged with poorly hidden anger.

"You would throw away your life for the sake of this quest? You would turn your back on everything? Your family? Your kind? You would condemn the end of your lineage? He asked incredulously.

"I am not condemning my lineage!" She replied, her own temper starting to rise. Why will he not understand!

"No, no you are just presenting it to the gates of Mordor. This is madness, Aerlaer, madness." He shook his head. "Just stay, they will be fine without you. Stay. Stay here with me." he pleaded again.

"I cannot. I told you, I simply do not feel for you in that way." She answered again tiredly. This conversation is going in circles.

"It is not my fault you have your ridiculous notions of what love is!" He snapped out and Aerlaer narrowed her eyes, anger swirling inside her. "If you but gave me a chance, perhaps you would feel more, want more."

"So, you expect me to abandon the quest in order to simply see if I might develop feelings for you?"

"Yes." She shook her head, holding back a derisive laugh.

"Orophin, why can you not understand, if I felt that way for you, I think I would have figured it out well before now."

"Aerlaer it is okay, you don't need to. I know it was different during the time you spent here, years before, where your heart lied but that is the past."

"Do not speak of that." She whispered, feeling trapped by his words, the way he so easily brought up the past. "My feelings for you will not change." Orophin smiled, stepping forward, carefully taking her hand. She did not like the feel of it. his touch now felt like a manacle about her wrist.

"Maybe in time you will. If you stay I can ensure your line doesn't die out. You are such a jewel to me." He simpered and she wrenched her hand from his.

"How dare you even deign the idea I would comply to this ludicrous notion of yours, like a doe eyed broodmare!" She spat at him, outraged.

Orophin's eyes flashed at her stinging words and she almost wished she could take them back but then, his gaze flickered back towards the Fellowship's camp and she followed it to see Legolas, stringing his bow and testing it's draw, a look of concentration upon his face. A half smile tugged at the corner of her mouth at the simple action.

"It's him, isn't it? You have feelings for him, don't you?" He hissed at her with malice.

"I…? What?" She spluttered incredulously, taken aback by his question.

"You care for him." He accused.

"I don't deny it." She said flatly, holding her head high. "But not as your twisted mind thinks." A look of pure contempt came upon his face as his eyes flickered to Legolas again and then back to her.

"He is beneath you anyway." He spat the word 'beneath' out like a foul taste on his tongue. She was shocked.

"His ranking is equivalent to mine and you know it." She instead retorted.

He laughed hard at her quip, the sound unlike anything she had ever heard him utter. It was malicious. "He walked out on his father and his kingdom. He has no rank. He would use you to climb back into grace. With me you would be prized and cherished. He is just a filthy wood-Elf, just a Sinda-"

Enraged, sick of his nasty words, she slapped him hard across the cheek. He gasped out in shock, taking a step back.

"How dare you! Your own Lord is Sindarin so you best hold your tongue on such matters." Bewildered, Orophin took another step back, eyes wide.

"Now you listen and you listen well." She hissed, her whole body feeling alight with anger. "I do not want to be with you. I do not feel for Legolas in that way and, if I did, it is none of your concern. He is my friend and, how dare you insult his kin. And furthermore, I am no one's prize, certainly not yours." He looked broken at her words but it was too late to apologize now, he had brought this about by not simply accepting her decision.

She lowered her voice, gazing carefully at him. "I wish you all the best. I bid you goodbye now." With that, she turned and stalked back to the campsite. She knew the others had probably overheard the confrontation and as she walked towards them still seething, they studiously ignored her and, she knew they certainly had heard. That meant Legolas had too. That meant he had heard what Orophin had accused.

The evening before, she couldn't deny, they had danced close, closer than she had realised at the time. Too much Elven wine had certainly been a terrible idea, but she had enjoyed the evening and she had enjoyed dancing with Legolas more than anyone else.

Perhaps that is why Orophin thought such things but, they were not true. Legolas was her friend, her companion. Orophin was a fool.

…

Legolas had heard everything, save for a few words by Aerlaer and as she stalked passed him, he fixated his attention on adjusting his quiver leathers. Glancing up only when he was sure she was quite a few feet away. His eyes widened for her hair seemed to spark. Not altogether, but a few strands as they rippled out behind her. Why did it spark so? He did not exactly want to ask, he felt awkward, knowing half of her conversation and argument with Orophin had concerned him.

It had been a bitter confrontation and although he was delighted to have witnessed the jumped up ellon receiving a slap for his obscene behaviour, Legolas only wondered more about the elleth he travelled with now.

From what Orophin had said in that argument and from small things Aerlaer had mentioned in conversations, he had figured out that, at some point, she had not been content between the silver and gold trees of Lórien. He wondered why? How could one not be content here in this safe and peaceful realm?

He heard slight movement and looked up again to see Aerlaer walking towards him. She had packed swiftly and was once again clad in weaponry.

"Aragorn mentioned we are to meet my grandparents at the Anduin docks." She murmured calmly. He noted her hair had returned to normal, her gaze serene as if nothing earlier had transpired. Surely, she was upset? Just how much, Legolas could not discern for she masked any other emotions perfectly.

"Yes, I think the others are near ready." He replied carefully. She surely knew he had heard her and Orophin. He wanted to thank her for the way she defended him towards the Lorien ellon, but he was not sure in himself about doing so.

Aerlaer made to turn away and he reached out quickly, grasping her forearm. She paused, her gaze questioning.

"Legolas?"

"I, uh-" He stopped himself, gazing down at the vambrace clad arm he grasped lightly. What in Arda was he doing! A leather strap was undone. "Your vambrace." He uttered, deftly securing it and letting go. "There." Quickly he turned away, purposely walking towards Boromir. What had gotten into him? His heart felt erratic and he'd brought it upon himself. He should have just remained quiet.

Aerlaer had stated loud and clear to Orophin, possibly loud enough for all Lothlórien to know, that she saw him only as a friend. He saw her the same, nothing more, absolutely nothing more. He grasped the leather strap which ran across his chest and pulled down hard, shifting his quiver upon his back slightly and stopped, before a rather sluggish and dishevelled looking Boromir.

He couldn't help the grin which formed as the man looked up from where he sat, tying his plated arm guards. "You do not look as cheerful as you did last night, Boromir. Whatever happened?" The man merely scowled up at him.

"Please, for the love of all that is good, be quiet." He grasped his head. "My head hurts."

"I believe you were warned that would happen." Legolas tilted his own head in amusement.

"Shh, your voice is too musical, cease." Boromir flung a hand up, grimacing and Legolas frowned.

"What is that supposed to mean? Too musical? I am not singing?"

"All you Elves all sound musical. Don't know how you bear living with yourselves." He grumbled, now running his hands back through his hair. Shaking his head, Legolas left the man to his misery, confused by his words. He did not sound musical. He was an ellon!

…

Galadriel had so far spoken too and gifted all members of the Fellowship but Aerlaer, Legolas, Gimli and Frodo. She did so, near to where they moved about among her own people, adding supplies and belongings to the three, light boats she had decided they should use in the next part of their journey. Haldir had reported that Urak-Hai had been sighted near the borders and the Fellowship would need speed. Speed the swift Anduin could provide.

She'd had no gift for Aragorn for he carried already the greatest gift; the heart of her eldest granddaughter. Now, Galadriel supposed, she ought to do something about her youngest granddaughter. So misguided was she and yet to stubborn to be outright told. To tell would only lead to questions which may hinder the path she journeyed and some answers could only bring potential danger.

Her mirror had shown nothing of Aerlaer but, paths had now entwined and she knew that all may change.

Galadriel glanced up, sensing another presence approaching and smiled kindly at the young wood-Elf. She had found him to be kind hearted and yet, she had seen him at the feast, speaking with Aragorn or the Man or Dwarf and he had a certain mischief and humour about him which reminded her of a much younger, untainted, Thranduil.

He certainly was not his father, his easy nature more welcome and light. As for what he was, Galadriel was now certain and for that, she was glad.

"My Lady?" He bowed politely, looking slightly uncertain and she beckoned him forth and gestured to what lay propped against a tree by her side.

"My gift for you, Legolas, is a bow of the Galadhrim; worthy of the skill of our woodland kin." She smiled as his gaze fell onto the mallorn-wood bow and his eyes widened in wonder. Picking the ready-strung weapon up, she handed it to him.

"Thank you." He whispered, attention fixated on the bow. "It is magnificent." He ran his fingers over the polished wood in reverence. There was an old saying, from the first age, one could judge how an ellon would treat an elleth by how they treated their weapons and Galadriel knew this bow would be cared for deeply. It was a contenting thought.

She next picked up the quiver as Legolas tested the draw of the bow, his wide smile, that of an excited Elfling. "This quiver will always be full." She handed forth the unique quiver. "These arrows are from the rare, Shea-Oak trees. The quiver is fashioned so the arrows grow from its base. Take one out and another will grow in its place. You need only tip a bit of water to the quivers roots every now and then." She explained as he curiously examined the green and grey feathery ends of the arrows which were fine, feathery pine like needles. She noticed as he frowned, touching one of the knock grooves.

"They are essentially like a larger version of Shea-Oak needles in the way they break off." She clarified as he pulled an arrow out and fully examined it. "They are also just as sharp." She added as he lightly touched his finger to the wooden point.

"These are rare and difficult to grow, I have read." He seemed unsure and she nodded.

"They are both, but where you are going, you will require the best that can be given." He nodded at that before another slight frown marred his features.

"Aerlaer?"

"Yes, I would not send my own granddaughter without the very same. Mind you, Legolas, she will wish to compete now your weaponry is matched." The wood-Elf let out a light laugh.

"A competition I would gladly accept."

"You are both alike, perhaps in more ways than you realise." She murmured, watching as the young ellon shifted ever so slightly in discomfort at her purposely offhand comment. It has begun. She studied him quietly a moment before speaking again, choosing her words carefully.

"There is a lostness about you, Legolas, that even you do not yet understand. Nor can you fully understand until you find what is nearly lost to you. Only then will your heart be content." He looked bewildered by her words but she knew he would. In time, he would understand. Taking a small, soft leather pouch from the inside pocket of her cloak, she took his hand and placed it in his palm.

"Do not open this pouch until you find what you are looking for." She instructed and he gazed at it a moment before looking back up to her and nodding.

"You have my word." He answered, tucking the small leather pouch away into an inner pocket of his tunic. She knew he would honour her instructions.

"Go safely now, son of the woods." She murmured, placing a hand upon his shoulder. "May our paths cross again." He nodded, farewelling her in polite respect, still a slight look of confusion in his deep, brown eyes, before disappearing into the trees, back towards the Anduin.

...

Aerlaer looked up as Legolas reappeared, forgetting the light Elven bedrolls she placed in one of the boats and sauntered towards him, eyeing the items he held.

"Look!" He exclaimed happily, holding out a strong yet elegant recurve bow which, she was sure would shoot for miles. She took it, running her hand and eyes over it.

"Wow, this is, its-"

"Perfection, I know!" Legolas gushed, taking it back from her. Aerlaer grinned, watching him as he practically drooled over the weapon, his boyish grin seeming to grow.

"What about your old bow, it will be sad." She teased but he didn't answer, instead playing with the draw of the bow. Shaking with laughter, Aerlaer left him to his new weapon and resumed placing bedrolls in the boat.

Merry and Pippin sat in one of the other boats and to Aerlaer's dismay, they were each scoffing down the lembas which had been given among other non-perishable, simple foods, as sustenance.

"You realise it only takes a mouthful to sate the hunger of a full-grown man?" She pointed out and two guilty faces peered up at her.

"We haven't had much." Pippin swallowed and she raised a disbelieving brow.

"Define much?" Nearby she heard Gimli chuckle.

"Now, you young rascals are in for it." He called out and both Hobbits hastily began packing lembas back into mallorn leaves and stowing them away in a pack. Content and finished with her current task, Aerlaer walked back up the bank to see what else she could do in preparing to leave.

"How many did you eat? She heard Merry ask Pippin quietly.

"Uh, four." Pippin replied and let out an involuntary burp. Aerlaer shook her head, unsure whether to be amused or annoyed. Gimli saved her from wondering.

"Lassie, your, uh, well the Lady wishes to see you." He stumbled out. She gazed at him curiously, wondering why his cheeks were bright red. He appeared as bashful as Sam sometimes was. Nodding despite her bemusement, she left the others and made her way into the trees.

"Tithinriel." Her grandmother spoke in greeting, holding an arm welcomingly out. Aerlaer walked into the embrace, wrapping arms around her grandmother, breathing her in. It was not until that moment, her resolution to leave faltered. She had not seen her grandfather yet and knew that goodbye would be just as difficult. A shaky sigh escaped her. "Are you well, young one?"

"Yes, I'll. I'll just miss you and, Laeadar." She admitted.

"As we will miss your light. You have made the correct choice." Aerlaer pulled back to gaze into her grandmother's eyes, seeking confirmation there that she really was doing the right thing. Orophin's accusations of how, by leaving, she was condemning her lineage, were turmoil to her heart and mind. "But you will not be going until you are well equipped." A smile tweaked the corner of her grandmother's face and Aerlaer cast about hopefully, feeling a pang of disappointment not to see a bow like Legolas had returned with.

"Try behind the tree." Her grandmother laughed and Aerlaer peered curiously around the trunk. "Wow, yes!" She exclaimed, picking up a beautifully crafted, strung bow. It was like that of Legolas's, but suited to her smaller, lighter build. Instead of the silvery wood of her companion's new bow, hers was like a light, burnished gold and she wondered just what wood had been used. Intricate mallorn leaves of light gold decorated its length.

"Yes, I have given you the same gift I gave Legolas." Her grandmother said, stepping around the tree to join her. Aerlaer only grinned, plotting how she would best her Elf companion now they were evenly matched in their bows. "Both have been crafted to ensure the ease of a recurve, as you are both used to but they will shoot further, like that of a longbow."

"Who in Arda had the time to craft these?" Aerlaer wondered aloud, testing the draw and finding it perfect.

"You are well loved throughout Lorien, three Elves worked on your bow and another three on Legolas's while the feast took place."

"Oh." Aerlaer didn't like the idea that six Elves had missed out for the sake of crafting her a new bow.

"Do not fear, they wished to help both you and, Legolas, who they see as kin." Slowly Aerlaer nodded, feeling better for her grandmother's words. "The quivers were Celeborn's idea." Aerlaer brought her gaze away from the bow in her hand and back to the butt of the mallorn tree and gasped.

"Why, that is a She-Oak quiver; take one arrow out, another will grow in its place." She knelt down to examine it.

"Indeed, it is. We would hardly send the two representing Elves of Middle Earth on a quest to the Black Gates with any lesser weapon. Also, I never want to hear you've run out of arrows again." She added, her tone taking on a sterner edge."

"Thank you." Aerlaer could only murmur as she ran her fingers along the feather-like fletching in wonder. "And Legolas has one too?"

"Yes. I would hardly send him with any lesser weapon either, knowing you will undoubtedly find yourself in one reckless situation or another." She looked up guiltily but her grandmother only smiled.

"I am glad you and Laeadar will let me continue on this quest." She admitted quietly.

"You are only permitted, provided you return." Aerlaer frowned. "Not to dwell here." Her grandmother added. "Just return, safely." She swallowed back threatening tears and nodded fervently.

"I will. I will come back." She stood, embracing her grandmother again, but this time it was different, she felt the power within the older Elf and an age-old recognition. "I will come back." She murmured again. She felt her grandmother pulling away and let go, taking her own step back. There was now a curious half-smile on the older Elf's face.

"Now, I could not help but hear a certain conversation earlier this morning." Aerlaer held in a groan.

"Oh, yes, that." She should have realised this was coming although, she was glad it was not from her grandfather. He was stricter in how she behaved given her title. Unfortunately, a quarter of the Elven population of Lothlórien had hearing her fall out with Orophin was not behaviour of a princess.

"You have made the correct choice Tithinriel." Aerlaer looked up at the older Elf in pure surprise. She was not in trouble?

"I would not see you trapped here, only a shadow of the Elf you are; condemning yourself to a lifemate you do not love." She then lowered her voice. "Especially one so foolish." A smirk briefly pulled at the corner of her mouth before she resumed speaking.

"And love, Aerlaer, is not always as sudden as water falling from the falls of the Nimrodel." Aerlaer frowned in confusion. Sometimes it is the small stream from a far-off place which flows slowly, taking it's time to build up to the rushing waterfall."

"I don't understand." She muttered, puzzled by her grandmother's words. She only smiled back fondly.

"In time, you will." This time she rolled her eyes and received a chuckle. "Let the answer find you. It will not be far."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Her grandmother was only confusing her more. She received a tap on her nose.

"In time, you will see."

…

Celeborn walked along the riverbank, seeking out Aragorn, when he caught sight of his youngest granddaughter dashing up excitedly to the Mirkwood Prince.

"Look! Now we are evenly matched! We will see who the better archer is." He heard her chatter excitedly to Legolas and a wry smile pulled and Celeborn's mouth. He paused in his search to observe as Legolas carefully took and examined Aerlaer's bow.

"Is Galadriel right in letting Aerlaer go?" He murmured as Haldir came to stand beside him, a cloak resting, folded over his forearm. The Marchwarden did not answer immediately.

"She would not remain under these trees. Though she loves them and the people who dwell here, Lórien will always be a prison in her heart." Celeborn nodded with a near silent sigh, watching as the young elleth laughed cheerfully with Legolas as they spoke animatedly of their new quivers.

"How goes your brother?" Celeborn asked instead. Haldir gave a rare, dry laugh.

"His ego is bruised as is his face but it is of his own doing." There was no pity in Haldir's tone for his youngest sibling and Celeborn raised and enquiring brow. "He thinks he knows Aerlaer but he is sorely mistaken." Celeborn nodded. Haldir, on the other hand, did know Aerlaer well. Perhaps better than he himself did. "I am proud of her choice." The Marchwarden murmured softly.

"As am I." Celeborn admitted although still his heart burned for it. He did not wish her to throw herself willingly into the line of danger. "Let us hope the Valar keep her safe and bring her back to us."

"I think, she possibly has a Prince to do such things." Haldir's voice was very quiet and Celeborn wondered if his Marchwarden knew. He did not dare ask. Yet, that Legolas now patiently held Aerlaer's old quiver as she swapped the straps to her new one and buckled it to her back, he thought perhaps Haldir only noticed what he had as both Elves had danced the eve before.

"I must speak with Aragorn, you should farewell her." Celeborn instructed the other Elf before turning away. He paused, looking over his shoulder. "And, Haldir, try and show some outward affection, the Valar won't smite you for it." Haldir only gave a dry snort in answer as Celeborn continued his way.

…

Legolas stood beside Aerlaer as a cloak was draped about his shoulders and an Elf carefully clasped an emerald green mallorn leaf at his throat, holding it in place. He felt honoured and humbled at such a gesture from the Elves Lórien.

"Never before have we clad strangers in the garb of our own people. May these cloaks help shield you from unfriendly eyes." Celeborn spoke from Legolas's other side where the Lord clasped Aragorn's own cloak. To his left, an entirely different conversation had begun.

"Remember all your training."

"Yes, Haldir."

"No being reckless."

"Yes, Haldir."

"Don't go throwing yourself into danger you don't need to."

"Yes, Haldir." Legolas cast a curious, side-long glance at the elleth beside him and the Marchwarden standing before her.

"You will listen to Aragorn and Legolas-"

"What, no, I have opinions-" Legolas did not see the look Haldir gave but Aerlaer corrected herself.

"Yes, Haldir." He held back a laugh.

"And most of all, come back in one piece or, I will kill you myself."

"Yes, Haldir, I'll miss you too, Haldir." Before the Marchwarden could move or say anything else, Aerlaer stepped forth and threw her arms around him.

Legolas bit down on his cheek, this time to keep from laughing at the rigidness and stunned expression on the Marchwarden's face. He doubted he received such affection often. Secretly, Legolas wished he was receiving that affection, no matter how platonic it was. He quickly dashed away that thought.

For all his stoic attitude, he did catch the ghost of a smile on Haldir's lips before the warrior-guard pulled away.

"You are incorrigible." Haldir stated flatly but Legolas saw that Aerlaer only grinned at the guard. This time, Legolas saw how the Marchwarden's features softened to that of endearment. "Be safe, Tithinriel." Legolas snapped his head fully sideways at the name Haldir had addressed Aerlaer but the Marchwarden was now in conversation with Aragorn and Aerlaer had turned to Boromir, asking the man if he felt well.

Legolas shook his head, dispelling confusion but, he was sure he had heard that name spoken before. He just could not recall when or to whom. He wandered away a little and politely thanked Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel for their kind hospitality.

He felt strangely uncomfortable under Celeborn's gaze. The Lord almost seemed to be assessing him. He wondered briefly if it had anything to do with what confusion words the Lady had spoken to him or, whatever curious contents resided in the small, leather pouch she had given him. When would he know, he was ready to reveal its contents? What was he meant to find which was lost?

"Legolas?" He glanced up to see Haldir gazing at him thoughtfully and sent him a questioning look. The Marchwarden stepped closer and then spoke in a very low voice. "Aerlaer, she is reckless. Please, when you can, keep an eye on her."

"Yes, of course." Legolas murmured. "We already do a little."

"I am glad. Safe journey, Thranduilion." Legolas held back a grimace regarding the name and nodded politely, crossing his hand over his heart in respectful farewell.

"May our paths cross again."

"Indeed, I think they will." Legolas was sure he saw the smallest shadow of a smile twitch in the corner of Haldir's mouth before he had turned and walked away.

It was mere moments later, he sat in a blue-grey Elven boat, gently paddling away from the natural dock, leaving the beautiful city of Caras Galadhon behind, but his memories of his short time there, so very short in the life of an Elf, remained vivid and he hoped he would return once again. Perhaps, when the world was a safer place.