Chapter Forty-Five

(everything is spoken in Elvish)

~ Legolas~
"You seem . . . discomforted," I noted uneasily.

And sure enough, Estel did. As Children of the Sun, even with the blood of the Eldar in her veins, Estel still held true to sleeping at night. Therefore, it was to my great surprise that I found her sitting in one of the deserted hallways, tapping her feet on the floor with a distracted expression.

She jumped. "Legolas! I . . . I didn't hear you!"

"No, you didn't," I observed. "But you have to remember that I'm not one of your kindred."

Estel sighed. "In any case, I'm not the only one out," she said. "My sister is also out."

"Why?" I asked curiously, moving to her side.

"She went looking for Haldir."

I frowned. Something about the way she had said that . . . her tone, perhaps . . . something told me that there was more to what she had said than what she had said. "Indeed?"

"He should have left by now," she murmured. "Soon the ships leave the Grey Havens."

"Ah."

I felt a twinge of unease myself. One, for the fact that she knew about that. And two, for the fact that I had not predicted that she would know it, for obviously there were no Elves in the future she came from. But Estel seemed to fit in so well that sometimes I forgot that she didn't really belong here; to her, this was a tale from a long ago in her past, to be told by scholars or by parents to little children.

Estel turned her grey-blue eyes on me. "Did you think we didn't know?"

There was no reply to that, so I decided to change tack – and subject.

"Why did Tinúviel seek out Haldir?"

She shrugged. "Because my mother wished to make sure Haldir was ready to leave us," she answered a little too casually.

I looked at her through narrowed eyes. "Indeed."

"You don't believe me?"

"Oh, I believe you. I just also believe that you are not telling me the full truth," I said calmly, looking straight into her eyes.

"Why would I do that?" she asked innocently.

I sighed at her attempt to deflect the question. "Estel . . . If you have a secret and you do not wish to tell me, it would be better for the both of us if you simply told me that."

"If it were my secret," she replied, "I would tell you."

I frowned at her choice of words. If it were my secret, I would tell you. That made no sense, unless –

"Is there something wrong with Tinúviel?"

She hesitated.

And then there was the sound of a slammed door and pattering feet, and I looked up.

Estel's eyes grew wide and she shot to her feet. "Oh, no!" she breathed. She looked at me. "Legolas, get back and hide in the shadows. Quickly! And whatever you do, don't make a sound or talk to reveal yourself – please!"

"What is going on?" I demanded, my eyes flickering between the increasing sound of footsteps and Estel.

"Just do it, please," she pleaded.

With a displeased frown, I backed into the shadows, concealing myself as any Elf knew how. But as I did so, I swore silently that if anything tried to hurt Estel, I'd leave the shadows at once.

Then Tinúviel appeared.

She looked . . . deadened. That was the only way I had described it. As if she'd seen the end of the world and had lost everyone she cared about and no longer really cared about trying to find a way to stop it. It gave her stunning beauty an almost . . . haunted edge, as if she'd looked into the Eye of Sauron itself.

Her sister looked up and froze. "Estel?" she whispered.

Estel hurried forward. "By the Valar . . . Tinúviel, what happened?"

I was more grateful now than ever that they spoke in Elvish; if they had speaking in the common tongue, I would have had to risk revealing myself to try and hear what they were saying, they spoke so quietly. But I knew my birth language like the back of my hand – I could have been blindfolded and paralyzed and only hear a whisper and understand exactly what the words were.

Tinúviel sat slowly where Estel had. "Everything," she whispered.

Estel sat beside her, her young face worried. "Tinúviel, what went wrong? Are you hurt? Did he . . . Did Haldir . . ."

So they are talking about Haldir. But why? What . . .

A new, sneaking suspicion crept into my mind. And it certainly did not bode well – for either involved.

"No. He . . . He said he never wanted to let me go."

The faintest trace of happiness made her lips curve up in the smallest smile I had ever seen – and the saddest. Her happiness was fainter than the light given by the sliver of the moon before the new phase; her sadness, greater than the blazing force of the sun during the summer equinox.

Something had happened, to change Tinúviel this way. And it hadn't been a small thing.

And then the words Tinúviel had said registered.

"So where is he?"

"No, Estel, I . . . I made him go."

Estel blinked. "What?" she exclaimed. "But – "

"I know what I said!" Tinúviel's face crumpled. "But I couldn't . . . I couldn't ask him to stay . . . I couldn't do that to him."

Then Tinúviel put her hands in her face and burst into tears. Sobs wrenched out of her like someone had ripped her heart away from her – and whoever held her heart. They shook her entire, delicate body as if she were a wave in a giant storm. All of her beauty and elegance and control faded now, leaving a normal person who grieved as anyone else did . . . when they'd lost someone they . . . loved.

Estel consoled her sister as best she could, but I knew it wasn't enough. Only time could heal this wound – but only just.

And time it did take before Tinúviel's tears stopped.

"Maybe he'll return for you," Estel suggested once her sister's tears had dried.

Tinúviel shook her head once, wiping away the traces of her tears with a single swipe. Her sadness remained, but now it was dampened somewhat, as if she carried it within her instead of letting it drag her down.

"He won't," she said softly. "He knows it can't be between us. It won't happen. It can't happen. I'm just a mortal and he – "

" – is the one who loves you," Estel interrupted.

For a moment, silence reigned.

And then Estel sighed. "But I understand why you did it."

Tinúviel shook her head slowly as she stood, a little sad smile on her lips. "No, you don't, little sister. Not until you've felt it," she stated quietly.

Estel didn't contradict her, and Tinúviel swept off into the night.

And I stared after her, amazed.

~ Estel ~
After a long moment, I raised my head. "So now you know," I said softly.

Legolas appeared silently in the shadows; if I hadn't seen him vanish into them, I would have never known he was there. With a silent frown, he sat down on the box beside me.

"Tinúviel . . . Does she . . . Does Haldir . . ."

"Yes," I answered soberly.

Legolas stared off into the distance, seemingly deep in thought. "So it happened. And here I thought it never could have come about. . ."

He trailed off again – but this time I got the funny feeling that he wasn't talking about Haldir and Tinúviel anymore.

Then his blue eyes snapped back to me. "But this isn't all that's troubling you, is it?"

I started to deny it, but then I stopped. Looking into Legolas's eyes, I knew I couldn't lie to him. I kind of owed it to him, after all he had done for me and my family.

I looked down. "No."

"What is it?" he prodded gently.

"Éomer," I said finally with a sigh. "It's Éomer."

I felt his surprise before I even looked up and saw it.

"Éomer?" he repeated, his astonishment clear in his tone. "Why, what has he done? Has he offended you or something?"

"No, no; he's been very polite and friendly," I assured him.

"Then what is it?"

I hesitated. "I'm not actually sure."

Legolas's frown deepened. "Was he saying something to you when I interrupted?" he asked shrewdly.

I blushed.

"I'll take that as a yes." He shifted. "What was he saying?"

"It's not what he said."

He sighed and rolled his eyes. "Very well. What did he imply, then?"

I looked away. "I don't know. I'm so confused. . ."

And that pretty much summed it up. I really didn't know how to frame what Éomer had said to me – well, implied actually. I knew it, but part of me was so occupied doubting it or something that I couldn't put my finger on it or name it. It was frustrating, even more so as I got the feeling that my mind was acting this way as if it were trying to shield me. I didn't need to be shielded; I wasn't a child.

Legolas grasped my chin with gentle fingers and tilted it so that I felt his eyes. His blue eyes were warm with sympathy and concern as he stared at me.

"You know," he said quietly, "you can tell me anything."

"What if I don't know what to say?" I whispered. "What if I can't describe it?"

"Try," he urged.

"I can't."

He put his arms around me reassuringly, and I huddled against the warmth of his chest, grateful that at least I didn't have any confusing feelings about him. He was just Legolas, a family friend who loved to tease me incessantly.

"Don't worry about it," he told me. "I'm sure it'll work out on its own, whatever it is."

I rested my head against his chest. "I hope so."

He was silent for a moment. Then he looked down at me. "Are you tired?"

I blinked. "No. Why?"

He was already standing as I asked, holding out a hand to pull me up as well. "Then we're going outside."

"Outside?" I yanked my hand out of his. "Why?"

"Well, it's nighttime now," he stated matter-of-factly.

"And . . ."

"I've always found that the cold night air helps to clear one's head, don't you?" he threw over his shoulder.

I still hesitated, though. I might have not been sleepy, but did I want to freeze?

After a moment, I followed with a shrug, as he surely must have known I would. Thankfully, though, he didn't rub it in my face or tease me as he normally would have. He merely smiled at me and took my hand again as we walked to the terrace.