Chapter Fifty-Eight
(everything is spoken in Elvish)

~ Legolas ~
I slipped my arms around Estel's waist from behind, smiling as she jumped.

"Legolas! Don't do that," she scolded.

I laughed, pulling her closer. "Why not? I'm the only one who will do this to you, and I hope you know that."

She grumbled, but it was quiet and didn't have any force behind it. I felt her relax to lean against me, trusting her safety to me. For me, it was still a bit of a heady feeling – to feel and see her trust me so much after all her years of enslavement. Not that I really dwelt upon it too much, of course, for thinking of her captors always made me angry.

I had been looking for her for a while now when I had peeked into her quarters to make sure she was fine and realized she wasn't even there.

I hadn't been too concerned for her; there weren't many places she could go, after all. Unless she fancied a swim – but one of us would have heard it and I knew she wouldn't have wanted to swim in this dirty river.

Finally, I had spotted her standing at the prow of the ship. The wind was strong here, driving away the musty smell of the ghosts and replacing it with the cool, salty scent of the sea. Thus, I could understand why she liked it.

"Why aren't you sleeping?" I asked her.

"I'm too excited."

I frowned. "Is it the ghosts that bother you?" I asked shrewdly.

She didn't answer; instead, she shivered lightly in my arms. Concerned, I pulled her closer, even though I knew her shivering wasn't because she was cold or some reason like that. She went along with me, even turning to press her face into my shoulder.

"Yes," she whispered.

I stroked her hair. "They won't hurt you."

But even my words sounded empty, and I knew that they would offer little comfort. Estel hadn't yet told me what had happened when the ghosts had surrounded her, but the memory stood out vividly in my mind of how she had screamed. And, besides, I knew it took a great deal to scare her so much.

"I know. But I can't . . . after what happened, I can't . . . I don't know." She sniffled. "I feel like such a coward, Legolas. I can't even deal with some measly ghosts."

Alarmed, I grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to look me in the eye. "You aren't a coward, Estel," I said slowly and seriously.

"But I – "

I shook her – gently, but enough to get my point across. She fell silent.

"Estel, listen to me. I have lived a great deal longer than you. I have seen a great deal more than you. And I can tell you right now that I have met many cowards, and you aren't close to the bravest one. Not even in a million years could you ever be considered a coward, meleth. Or have you forgotten what you endured before we met? No 'coward' could have endured that and still be as you are today. No one, Estel, no one. Do you hear me?"

She didn't answer.

I sighed. "Estel . . . anyone would have done as you did when the ghosts overwhelmed you. Anyone."

"You didn't," she shot back. "Aragorn didn't. Gimli didn't."

"Were we attacked and overwhelmed by them?" I demanded. "No, we weren't."

"But . . ."

"Do you think I lie to you?"

A brief smile flashed across her face. "No."

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes."

"Do you trust my advice to you?"

Her smile grew wider. "Sometimes."

I sighed, but I couldn't help smiling either at her teasing response. "Estel. . ."

A laugh greeted my sigh – exactly what I had been looking for. She relaxed slightly in my arms, partly because she felt more relaxed and partly because she trusted me to protect her. I wasn't sure which I was happier about.

"What did you really want to say to me?" Estel asked, looking at me.

"What do you mean?"

She rolled her eyes. "Come on, Legolas. You didn't just saunter over here for no reason at all."

"How about the fact that I was worried about you?" I pointed out innocently.

She sighed. "Spit it out."

"The truth?" I tightened my arms around her. "Estel, I will never think of you as a coward. Never. This ghost business scared all of us."

"You weren't scared," she contradicted me.

"I'm not easy to read," I corrected her gently. "I was scared then, Estel. I thought I would lose you. And that is a great deal scarier to me than any ghost. If I lost you. . ." I shook my head slowly. "I can barely even wrap my mind around that concept. If I lost you . . . I don't know what I'd be living for anymore."

~ Estel ~
Legolas's words surprised me. A lot.

I loved Legolas, and I knew he loved me back. But I hadn't realized just how deeply he loved me. The depth of his attachment to me compared to mine to him was like comparing an ocean to a shallow pool left by rain in a muddy pit.

I should have realized it earlier, though. Legolas was nearly three thousand years old. He had seen a great deal and met a lot of people. His declaration of loving me was more binding, more powerful, and more sincere as a result, because he had three thousand years of pent-up affection to spend on me. And as an Elf, he would have all of forever to continue loving me, regardless of what I did, where I went, and . . . and if I died.

No, not if I died. When I died.

Now, more than ever, I felt like a child compared to him.

A shiver ran up my spine as I considered his last words: "If I lost you . . . I don't know what I'd be living for anymore."

Unconsciously, I felt my grip on him tighten. "Don't say that," I whispered.

He looked down at me with concern. "What is it?" Without waiting for my answer, he said abruptly, "Let's get below. It's too cold here."

I let him lead me back to my room, and when I curled on the bed under the blankets, he slipped in behind me, gently placing his arm over my waist. It wasn't natural instinct for him, I knew; it was a conscious effort to comfort me. For that, I was even more thankful.

"Now," he said softly, "what was that about?"

"Don't say that ever again."

Confusion creased his eyebrows as he tilted his head. "Say what?" Then understanding dawned and he sighed. "You wanted the truth," he reminded me.

"Not that kind of truth," I protested.

His eyes turned unreadable. "It's the same kind of truth others like us have felt," he said simply.

I couldn't argue against that. Lúthien and Beren, Idril and Tuor, Tinúviel and Haldir, Arwen and Aragorn – they had all felt the same way too. All of them weren't ready or willing to consider the possibility of living without the other. Lúthien had even crossed to the Halls of Mandos to beg the return of Beren after his death.

"You're worrying," Legolas stated gently.

"You just told me you don't plan to live when I'm not here. Yes, I'm worried!"

He smiled sadly. "Would you not do the same for me?"

"That's different," I objected. "Mortals were meant to die. You're one of the Eldar. You're immortal."

"So was Lúthien."

I groaned and rolled away, facing the wall instead of him in frustration. He was making this ridiculously difficult. My sister's words rang suddenly and frightening truthful in my ears: "No, you don't, little sister. Not until you've felt it."

I didn't want to let Legolas go.

But if I had to . . . if was the only way to let him live . . . I would.

And I would just have to try and live with the pain that would cause. Even just by considering it, here and now with Legolas beside me and his arms holding me, a hole was opening in my heart – the sliver of a ghost of a hole, and yet it was more painful than any wound I had ever suffered in my entire and rather short life. I couldn't imagine what it would feel like at full force.

Distracted as I was, I didn't feel the pressure until it was too late.

"What is the point of living if all you love is gone?" Legolas asked simply, looking down at me from where he had made me lie on my back.

I looked away. Yet another statement I couldn't refute.

He chuckled gently, lying back down and pulling me close to him again. "Estel, calm yourself," he said gently. "I'm not going to go off and kill myself the second you die. But . . . I think it is reasonable . . . to ask that you be careful. You're a lot more breakable than me, you know."

"Legolas!"

"Yes?" he asked innocently.

I groaned. "You're terrible," I complained lightly.

A flash of bittersweet yet teasing love crossed his eyes. He leaned forward to kiss my forehead, so lightly I barely felt it. "Ah, the things I do for love," he murmured.

"I'm not that breakable."

"Hmm. But compared to me . . ."

"Oh, hush. I want to sleep."

"So sleep," he said simply.

I sighed, but I pressed my face against his chest as I closed my eyes. I wanted to fall asleep with him being the only thing on my mind. I didn't want a nightmare about battle or ghosts or my past. I wanted a simple daydream, and he was the easiest character in it. Even as I fell asleep, I knew I was going to succeed. It was his arms around me, his musical laughter, his warm teasing – that was what I was thinking as I drifted off.

When I was basically one step away from sleep, a cool hand brushed at my hair as soft lips pressed against my own.

"Sleep, meleth," Legolas murmured in my ear, his musical voice soft yet thrumming with affection. "I will see to it that nothing bothers you."

I believed him.

And I slept.

meleth = my love