Hello! I am so, so, sooo sorry for not updating for so long! Just been really, really overwhelmed with schoolwork and stuff, and I haven't had time to even think about what to write D:

But anyway, chapter four's finally up haha. I know it's kind of short, and not very fantastic, but I hope you like it! I wanted to get the interaction between Eowyn and Tauriel just right and this was the only one that made me somewhat happy, at least for a first meeting. Don't worry, I'm gonna give them more time together in later chapters!

Please review (I know it took me forever to update this, and I know it's a really, really short chapter without a lot of things happening, but I'm serious, reviews keep me going)!

So, this chapter was quite important to me. I hope you enjoy it!

It was over.

Tauriel watched, her eyes blank, emotionless, as those still living cheered, as they smiled, laughed.

But her eyes were fixed on the dead bodies strewn across the ground, not only those of the enemy, but those of Elves and Men.

She shut her eyes.

Haldir.

Haldir was dead.

She took a deep breath, opened her eyes again.

He had not deserved to die.

But then, neither had so many others.

So many fallen.

A face flashed across her mind.

Legolas.

Where was he?

She should seek him out, she knew. But she could only stare blankly ahead of her, as the events of the night and the morning washed over her.

Blood and darkness and fire and the clash of steel against steel and shrieks and battle cries and arrows soaring through the air –

And there he was, looking up at her, smiling faintly at her, and his eyes, once so bright, so full of life, were fading –

"She walks in starlight in another world."

She took a deep, shuddering breath, stumbled against the wall behind her.

Kili. She could see him, could see him in the dead lying around her, could see him as the light faded from his eyes, could see him fighting, yelling hoarsely, not willing to give up in battle –

No.

He had fallen decades ago.

He was not here, in this battle, with her.

But someone else had been with her.

"Legolas," she murmured to herself. "Legolas."

And she pushed herself up onto her feet.

Eowyn had never seen anyone quite like her before.

She stood tall, straight, her red hair shining like fire down her back, looking as if she would fly into battle at a moment's notice. She was alone, standing half-hidden in the corner of the great hall, her eyes searching the room, never staying on any one person for long.

And she was an elf.

All the other elves, after their aid in the battle for Helm's Deep, had returned to Lothlorien.

And yet this fiery-haired elf had stayed, the only elf in the hall apart from Legolas, who was having some type of drinking competition with the dwarf Gimli.

Eowyn's eyes turned to find him, and her gaze softened as they reached Aragorn, standing by their side, smiling to himself, chuckling softly.

"You must be the Lady Eowyn."

The shieldmaiden of Rohan very nearly let out an undignified yelp as she whirled around to find the fiery-haired elf from before standing in front of her, the smallest of smiles on her face.

"Forgive me," the elf said, managing to smooth her expression. "I had no wish to frighten you."

"You did not frighten me," Eowyn said, automatically.

The elf merely raised her eyebrows.

"He is an honourable man," the elf said, after a moment of tense silence in which it was clear that Eowyn was not about to admit that she had been scared, and that she was less than happy about the fact that she had, in all honesty, been frightened. At Eowyn's inquisitive glance, the elf inclined her head towards Theoden. "He has thought not only of the victory, as so many are wont to do – he remembered all those who had died defending them, and honoured them as well. He remembered that they had given up their lives for those they loved, remembered that they too should have been with them here today, celebrating this victory."

Eowyn's gaze softened as she turned her face away from the elf.

"Yes," she said, softly. "He is an honourable man."

"I have not introduced myself," the elf said. "I am Tauriel, of the Woodland Realm."

Woodland Realm.

"Strong, and brave, and true, and beautiful. She will never hesitate to do what she believes is right, and she is fierce and bold and courageous, and yet she is delicate and gentle, able to see the danger and beauty in everything."

Almost instinctively, Eowyn raised her head and found Legolas, still with Gimli.

"She is everything to me."

"I am companion to Legolas," Tauriel said, "if that is what you are wondering."

"Legolas is a wonderful travelling companion," Eowyn said, recalling their talk on their way to Helm's Deep.

"Indeed," said Tauriel, and she turned her head to find her blond friend, her friend who had stayed with her for so many years, who had never abandoned her.

"Did you fight in the battle?" Eowyn asked, after another few moments of uncomfortable silence on her part.

Tauriel inclined her head. "I did, yes. And yourself?"

"They would not let me fight," Eowyn said, and her face darkened. "I can fight as well as any, and yet they would not let me, and sent me instead to the tunnels and caves with the women and children."

"You wish that you had taken part in the battle."

"Yes."

"You should not wish so."

"Why not?" Eowyn demanded, her gaze now fixed on a faraway point, unwilling to turn and look at Tauriel. "To fight with honour for that which you love, to put your life as a safeguard for everyone else – they may not be able to protect themselves, but I can, and I will not willingly wait to be killed or to be taken a prisoner!"

"Maybe so," Tauriel agreed, "but what of the women and children who look to you, who would need you to guide them? Who have placed their faith in you? Who need you there, for themselves and for their loved ones?"

Eowyn stared at her.

"To fight is honourable," said Tauriel, "but so is playing a role to aid others when you are what they need most."

"You have met the Lady Eowyn."

"She is a strong woman."

"She is most admirable."

"You pity her."

"Why do you say that?"

"I can see it in your eyes. You pity her for loving someone who cannot love her back."

Legolas turned his head to look at Tauriel.

She stood beside him, hair flowing out in the wind behind her, her eyes fixed on the night sky, the stars glittering in the dark velvet.

"I do," he agreed. "But I have the hope that she will learn to love another."

"She cares for him greatly."

"But that does not mean that Aragorn is the only person she will ever be able to love."

"And yet she will not be able to heal easily."

"It depends on how much she truly cares for him as a person."

"What do you mean?"

Tauriel waited, as Legolas fell silent, gathering his thoughts.

"She may love him for who she thinks he is," he said, finally. "For being who he is supposed to be, for representing so much that she dreams of and longs of. For what he means to her. But not for who he truly is."

There was a long silence.

"I am unable to express myself properly," Legolas said.

"No," said Tauriel, softly. "No."

She looked up at the stars.

"No, I understand you perfectly."