Come live in my heart, and pay no rent." —Samuel Lover

Chapter 13

They walked along the white path which wound through the trees until after a while the came upon a small clearing with a pretty stone bench carved as if made of living mallorn. There he gestured for her to sit and she did so, evidently curious at his silence since his request for her company. He walked a few paces away, looking about them, listening for any sounds close by of potential disturbances to their conversation.

He knew not quite how to begin, for there was much that he wished to know about her. "I realise that I have been remiss in our friendship" he finally said, turning to her where she sat across the small clearing. She tipped her head to the side in her now familiar gesture of puzzlement. He strode closer, stopping a pace away and lowering himself swiftly to one knee, taking her hands in his. "I wish to know you. I wish to know everything that you might tell me about you and your life before we met so that i might see more clearly into your heart"

She seemed to consider him, looking at their joined hands. "Why do you wish to know my heart?" She asked, finally.

He felt his heart thrum in his chest at her direct question, wondering what he could admit to without frightening her away from him. He gently rubbed his thumbs across the back of her hands before speaking, letting the softness sooth his anxiety. "I wish to know your heart, so that I might share mine with you, should you wish to possess it"

He dared not look up into her eyes for fear of what he might see there after such a declaration. Instead, he watched their hands for any signs of her withdrawal. After a moment which felt to him an age, she tentatively squeezed his hands and he chanced a look at her face.

Something shone in her eyes, perhaps hope? He was not certain, but his own hope swelled at her lack of immediate rejection. As he watched, she smiled in a way that he knew to be only his, a smile which spoke of a tenderness he had not seen her bestow on any other of their acquaintance; even Aragorn, who he knew to be a great friend to her.

"Had I not met many elves on our journey, I would ask if all your kin speak with such honey on their tongues" there was a lightness to her voice, as if on the edge of a laugh. He grinned at the term which sounded as if it was born of her people, for he knew that they prized themselves on their beekeeping. While he smiled at her, their eyes level for he still knelt, she seemed to grow serious. "I wish you to know, I have not the luxury of an elven upbringing, despite my mother's efforts" she frowned slightly, looking to the side as she sought the words, "I cannot tell if... if you mean this declaration as less than it appears to me. I cannot pretend to guess at your definite intentions, a Prince of elves as you are"

He opened his mouth to vehemently deny her doubt in him, but the vulnerability he saw in the set of her features gave him pause. He did not wish to beg her trust his words alone. He rose, remaining the contact of their hands as he sat beside her on the bench. Only then did he remove his grasp, so he could place his right hand upon her cheek, raising her face to meet his gaze.

"I would never give you false hope of my intentions towards you. Falsehood is the providence of lesser beings than we" he purposefully included her in his statement, wishing to remind her that she, too, was one of his kin. "My station matters not. My father is a proud king, but he would not have me give myself for anything less than my heart's own will"

Her eyes, arresting in their golden hue, swam with unshed tears. "You speak of giving your heart, when mine you already possess" she said, wetness touching her cheeks, "Tell me that this is not some spell cast by the golden lady. She saw much in my mind that even I had only begun to guess at"

He swallowed; his throat dry as if his heart had risen inside it at her words. "What did the Lady Galadriel tell you?"

"She spoke of what I know cannot be, though your words call it into being"

He raised his hand to sweep away the tears which had fallen on her cheeks and tracked paths down her skin. "What cannot be?" he asked, already guessing at her meaning.

"You cannot love me. I believe I am mistaken in my understanding"

He shook his head at her words, heart both rejoicing and despairing in a single moment. "Why do you say so? When you alone I have sought in my sorrow. When I dream each night of the dreadful mines of Moria, for the memory of the night you lay in my arms"

She looked into his eyes, something sparking inside them that he could not name. She raised her fingers to his face, brushing the tips against his temple and stroking down, until she reached the side of his neck. He shuddered then, her touch awakening his body and burning down the path she had made.

Her pupils dilated, and a part of him was reminded of her lineage, of the beast which in a moment she could become if she so chose.

She spoke then, her voice low and husky with something that stirred an awareness deep inside him that he had not truly known until that moment. "Do you desire me?" she asked, the question alighting the deep place her voice had touched.

He could not answer her in words. His eyes, until then trapped in her gaze, flickered down to her mouth, which he had not allowed himself long to look at before. He forced a semblance of composure before he looked up again. "I desire every part of you, but I would start with your heart" he spoke the words before the fear of baring himself so could dissuade him.

She looked inside the depths of his ancient eyes for a long time before she replied. "Then you shall have it"

They remained on the mallorn bench, in the wooded clearing, for what felt to Amber like an eternity, and yet only a moment; such was the passing of time in the strange lands of Lothlorien.

When the sun began to rise, neither having spoken more, Legolas finally stood and held out his hand for her to take. She rose, feeling suddenly the soreness of sitting in such a spot for many hours. She shook herself from her reverie, allowing him to guide her from their clearing, for now it would always seem to her to belong to them in some way, having shared their hearts in it's centre.

When they reached the resting place of their company, they saw that no one was yet awoken, besides Aragorn, who was not still in the pavilion.

Amber laid down on soft pillows, body and mind drained. Her eyelids drooped, and just as she drifted into sleep, she felt a blanket being draped atop her, a soft press of lips against her forehead.

When she awoke again, the afternoon was passing, sun dipping towards the western canopy of the trees. She did not find Legolas upon sitting up, so she wandered over to where the hobbits sat beside a table laden with light food, left for them by the Lorien elves. She found herself hungry, eating many fruits and berries, venison and dried meat that tasted like boar. She declined the flatbread that Merry held out for her, telling him that it turned her stomach. He seemed aghast, and upon his insisting that she explain why, she found herself sitting with the halflings and explaining her lineage, the demands of the part of her which was a beast, desiring flesh and plants where flesh did not satiate her half-elven body.

A long while later, while she explained the particulars of her brothers' diets and how each differed (the hobbits perking up decidedly at the mention of her brother Darbeorn's bakery); Legolas entered the pavilion, smiling at the sight of her and joining the circle of listeners to her tale of her people.

Over many days, walking often along the woodland paths, Legolas asked Amber much of her heritage and family. She told him of her four brothers, before Fébeorn had died. Grimbeorn was the oldest and their leader since her father passed away forty years ago. He was stern and she smiled as she told him how Grimbeorn put store in strength above brains. Fébeorn had come next in age, followed by Darbeorn who was known as far as Dale as a master baker, known most especially for his honeycakes. Legolas laughed at this and delighted her in telling how he had traded for them sometimes, elves and dwarves alike buying them from the men that lived there.

"I often teased him that his famous bakery could not even tempt his own sister" she said, laughing. Legolas grew curious at this, recalling how she always ate as might a beast, for she did not care for grains or pulses. He asked her why this was, if her brothers ate such fare.

"We all differ" she told him, musing at the oddities of her family. "Grimbeorn is a bear, as was my father. He eats much, though does not enjoy vegetables" she grinned at the elf, knowing that he would be in misery without them in his own diet. "Fébeorn was a wolf when he transformed, I do not think my father was expecting him to differ from them. He was very stubborn and often took his own path" a shadow crossed her face as she thought of her fallen brother. "Darbeorn is a badger, though he used to become very angry for being such a small beast compared to our older brothers. He has a fierce temperament though, I would not take him in a fight" she raised her eyebrows to Legolas, who felt himself fair warned. "Last is Linbeorn. He did not change for a long time, though our father thought that to be due to their grief as their mother died when she bore him"

Legolas nodded in sympathy, knowing that it was this pain and loss that tore many mortal families apart. "Your family was strong together" he spoke it as a statement, though he had not met them.

Amber nodded, pausing in her stride to look up to the clear sky which could be spied between the tree canopies above them. "Linbeorn was nearly a hundred years old when my mother came to my father's home. She had met my father on a scouting trip from your wood and they had fallen in love"

Legolas nodded. He had not known the particulars but was aware that her mother had left their kingdom nearing four hundred years hence. This was not long in the memory of the elves, and his father, who had been disgusted when they learned the reason, had bidden her not be spoken of in his presence. Legolas had not learned much, and being even then desperate to explore the wider world, he had not questioned it.

"My older brothers were cautious of her, or so I'm told" she spoke, her voice lost in memory of long ago conversations. "Linbeorn was barely full grown, as my father's people are long-lived for mortal folk. My father was nearing 900 when he died"

Legolas wondered at this. Her mother must have had this love for four centuries, had it been worth the rest of her life alone? He looked into Amber's upturned face and surprised himself by the certainty of his own resolve. Yes, it would be enough.

Amber looked at him then, smiling at his attentive gaze. "It was not until my mother joined them, and brought joy back into our home that Linbeorn found his beast. He became an eagle" she looked again to the skies, as if watching her brother fly above their heads in her mind's eye.

"You miss them" he said, taking her hand and raising it to his lips. He pressed a gentle kiss there, gratitude for her presence on their journey mingling with sorrow for her losses. She smiled at him, pressing her fingers into his hand that held them.

"I do. But they have my mother. Once the worst of the pain since Fébeorn's loss has passed, they will be happy again. Linbeorn and my mother play music together. They have always been very close. It was his accepting her as a mother that tied our family's bonds"

Legolas smiled, imagining what his life might have been if a new mother had taken a place at his father's side. He could not picture it, though the love of mortals was said to be transferred more easily. The elves only had one true love in their lives and if that love was lost, they would either fade from the world or remain in sorrow.

"What is your mother's name?" he asked her, drawing his own thoughts away from the dark path they had begun to travel.

"Alassëa" she answered, starting to walk again, but not dropping his hand. "She told me it means a kind of happiness, like the hobbit Merry?" this last she asked him and he nodded, smiling at the thought of her having a happy, loving mother waiting for her at home.

"She is truly not unlike Merry the hobbit in temperament" she said thoughtfully, "Much joy she brings to any room, though she has been more sad since my father and brother died. I hope that it does not last forever, she was always such a bright light to me"

"She will have joy again in time, with you and your brothers to ground her" he thought of his father, of how he had remained in this world for his son. Legolas felt again the sadness of his father, living for a son who wished to escape their lands. As if sensing his sorrow, she raised the hand not joined with his and stroked it across his face, tracing the line of his cheekbone and trailing her fingers along one braid. As her fingers brushed against the tip of his ear he shivered, closing his eyes for a long moment before opening them again to meet her gaze.

After a time they walked on, and he resolved that should they survive the war, he would ask her to bind herself to him in the manner of their people, for now he had known such love, he would not wish to return without her.