Author's Note: The song used here is "I Want You Here," by Plumb, with minor edits. I did not write it, nor do I own it!

The walls stood silent and the night was one of the darkest since the coming of the month of April. The fire-light from the great stone ramparts did nothing to brighten the darkness for the first time in a month; the darkness was in her, not without, though there were no stars. It was a peculiar time of night for Arwen, Queen of Gondor, to be out on the balcony…the dead of night was just that—life did not even seem to stir, and for her…well, she probably would not have even noticed if it had.

Aragorn was late…so very late. She had been restless, waiting, something strangely pulsing in her heart, keeping her awake. She had fallen asleep it seemed only about an hour ago and had woken…she did not want to think of that yet. There was no cause for her to worry for him. He was in the City somewhere; it was not as though he was gone from her reach…though it seemed lately that he was simply beyond it.

How that had come to be…she nearly staggered backwards to the chair with the ache of longing that filled her heart. For over two months now she had been waiting—no, busy…busy by choice. And busy she had been; moving about the City and visiting the people, helping the rebuilding of losses among the fourth level, spending time with them in the midst of her own loss. She had tried to make up to them the time that she had needed to heal, and now it only seemed that the more she tried to make up one aspect of her life, the farther another had gotten away from her. The wedding…dear heavens, the wedding was so soon; in that instance time had most certainly gotten away from her. She did not know if she had the strength in her to let her friend go, even though she trusted the bridegroom with all her heart. Eventually, their path together would take them to Ithilien, along with Faramir and Éowyn, Gimli would return to the Glittering Caves and then all of them would be just beyond her reach…and she would be alone.

The weight in her heart crushed her, and this time, she did drop back into the chair. Her hands felt the strong wood, not rough but still unpolished, smoothed by the hands that she knew the feel of just as she knew her own: strong, powerful…rough but gentle…not so unlike the chair in which she sat. The very thought made her hands tighten, as if to hold on to that fleeting memory and keep it close to her. So much strength in those hands, so much will and power to bend and not break. So unlike her…she was strong, but not strong enough. Not to withstand this storm.

She knew then at that moment that something was broken, something that had to be mended, and quickly. Her relationship with Aragorn was the heart of her existence. It was not that they never saw each other…it was simply that their paths did not cross as often as they would like. She would often go to sleep and he would come in late or she would wake and he would not be there. When was the last time she had held him close to her? When was the last time she had laid her head against his chest? When was the last time they had made love? No; that one she knew exactly when and where: December, she had been lying on the alpaca rug before their fire on her side, their bodies entwined, his hands resting against the five month swell of her womb…

Yes, she thought as she slipped her hands across her very flat and very empty abdomen. Yes, she remembered those moments quite well as tears filled her eyes; she had needed so long to heal, and the poison from the attack had made her so weak. It had taken her nearly a month to become herself again, to have the energy she had before the attack. By March, she had been more…normal. Her tears were reserved for nights…no one else saw them but Aragorn when they came, as she had forbidden herself from crying before Enguina. But she felt…she felt…god, it was so difficult to describe! Unwanted? Was it fair to say…undesired? Yes, she had needed time to heal; she knew that these past two months had been difficult on both her and Aragorn. He held her, comforted her...but he did not touch her…and she had not sought him out either…

Arwen reached up and wiped her hand across her eyes. Enguina was not the only one plagued by nightmares, though hers were much more frequent and terrifying in their own right. Enguina had just been at the House crying last night, her dreams haunting her. Something was happening, but Arwen did not know why they were plaguing her like this. Aragorn had told Enguina in the midst of her pain that he was going to try to help her sleep with an elixir; the exhaustion was plain in her face last night. But being in the other room from where they were sleeping made her feel safe; she slept better when she was in their House on the divan by the window. No, Enguina was not alone with the nightmares; Arwen had just woken to one herself tonight, screaming as she came awake, and then followed that by spending the next few moments crying aloud for Aragorn. God…she had needed him tonight; she still did as she wrapped her hands around her arms and held herself tightly. She had not dreamed about the emptiness she felt for a week…now, all the memories were haunting her. She laid her head back against the chair and raised her tear-filled eyes to the heavens.

An ache so deep that I can hardly breathe

This pain cannot be imagined; will it ever heal?

He was inside, so small; a part of our lives, so strong

All I could do was keep believing, but it was not enough

Is anyone there?

I waited so long for him to come

Then he was here, and now he is gone…

I was not prepared for him to leave me; this is misery!

Are you still there?

I want to scream! Is this a dream?

How could this happen, happen to me?

Grief everywhere; this nightmare!

This kind of torture I cannot bear

I want you here!

She wept. Father! Help me breathe! How many nights have I sat in this darkness, Father? I seek you…oh, I seek you and I need you. I need you so desperately…your peace, your unfailing love, your faithfulness. Get me out of this dark place, bring me up out of this pit. With each day that passes I feel as though I have accepted this loss and then suddenly…suddenly the weight crushes my heart! How can I feel peace when I am in so much pain?

More tears flowed down her face. Aragorn…Aragorn…is there a moment you do not sense my guilt, Father? How many nights have I prayed for his safe return and you have brought him home? It is as if I have lost him, yet we sleep in the same bed, and his arms are still around me…why does it feel so different? Why do I feel so…alone? Bring peace to this heart and peace to us, Father! Grant us time together…give us time to return to the closeness that we shared just a few months ago. I long to simply hold him again…just to hold him…to speak with him…

She felt her nails dig into her arms through the shawl she had wrapped about her shoulders to keep out the spring chill, and she saw her arms were wrapped about herself, trying to hold something that was not there. She clenched her jaw and her eyes fluttered closed as she tried to keep back the tears that threatened to continue.

Oh, Ilúvatar…how I miss him! Even with that thought, the tears fell again, and she pushed herself from the warmth of the chair and hurried back into the House. Her hands still on her empty womb, she did not even try to grab the shawl as it fell from her shoulders. She burst back into the House and avoided returning to the bed; she would not be able to fall back to sleep even as exhausted as she was right now, not with her heart so bruised, not alone in this place. Falling down on her knees in front of the fire, her face pressed into her hands, she cried…for the baby, from the nightmare, from her foolish anxiety about Aragorn's love for her, from the pain of him not being present, from the agony of being alone for one more minute in this House…

She would never have been able to say how long she sat there before she felt his hands on her upper arms so suddenly they startled her. Her head came up as she gasped, and then her eyes met his for two seconds before she lost it completely again, heart-wrenching sobs taking over her body. She tried to stop them; it did not matter. Burying her face in his chest and neck, she clung to him as his arms wrapped around her. He had come because she had reached for him. He was there in her pain; he could feel it because she could not prevent her mind from sharing her emotions with him. She needed him, and he had come…that was all that mattered.

Aragorn stood in hushed silence at the window, hands clasped behind his back, the first hint of the dawn breaking over his form. From this window, his grey eyes could catch sight of the far away mountains, the stretching Anduin, and the shadowy form of Osgiliath rebuilt. He could see all that he had a hand in renewing; the borders of Mordor, the retaking of the overrun Ithilien, and the rebuilding of Osgiliath and the great walls that surrounded Minas Tirith's seven circles. He could see what he had sacrificed and given of himself in order for those things to be remade after the destruction of the Great War…and yet even at this moment none of that seemed to matter.

Even though his eyes remained focused on the far reach of Gondor, his kingdom, his heart reflected on the last three months that had passed by so quickly he felt he had not even been part of them. Soon after the announcement to the people of the engagement of Legolas and Enguina, time had seemed to fly, and it would only be another month or so until the wedding would actually be upon them. Instead of the planning, he had been rebuilding his City, finishing the wall and the Fourth Level, taking part in the councils, trying to come to terms with the loss of his son, choosing exhaustion over sleep. He frowned as he thought of all that he had missed these past months…and he shuddered as he once again felt as though he was missing a part of himself. He knew she felt it as keenly as he did.

His eyes averted, following the soft stream of light across the dimly lit room; there, on the nightstand, sat the smoldering candle, another memento of the long night's waiting. Ever did she remember to leave it burning, and ever did he come home after another mostly sleepless night to find it smoldering. Last evening, there had not been much resting in this House, and he had left the light to shine into the darkness. His eyes moved from it to the bed and the beauty that lay within it.

Too long had it been since he had just stood still and looked upon her sleeping form. Too long had it been since he had reached out and given his love; his time had not been his own. Time… He had barely given any of it to her, and he felt the guilt pour through him so quickly that it cut his breath. His grief at the loss of that closeness was great.

She had needed time to heal from the loss of the child, and to recover from her time of sickness, and so they had both recovered and drawn strength from one another. But was that an excuse? Yes, he was using that as a crutch! Was she ready? Had she been ready for the last few weeks and he had not seen it, trying, as they were, to stay busy so they would not grieve? As time drew on, she grew caught up with Enguina, the plans for her dear friend's wedding, and the demanding schedule of her visits within the City to the people, and he…he could find no excuse for his own heart-pain. His love for her burned within him as a lit coal, and he wanted more than ever to take her into his arms and tell her that nothing had changed…that his love was the same today as it had ever been.

When he had left the side of Noldore and Dintîr last evening, it was because he had heard her cry in his heart. He knew what it was, what she was feeling, and he had gone to her. Entering the House and finding her so hurt by what she had felt in her dreams, seeing her hands around her womb, had made him sick. She had seemed so exhausted to him, her form slumped before the fire. Finally, they had made their way to the bedroom; they had barely talked. Some nights, he simply needed to hold her; there was nothing to be said.

But this morning, he was determined. His hands tightened as well as his jaw; he was playing keep-away with the council today. It had been his promise as he had held her last night. It would be her first ride in months, and it would be an opportunity to really talk. Whatever plans they had for the day could take a leap from the Embrasure. There would be no plans; none, save one—restoration—and a refocusing on the important things.

Ilúvatar…hear my call. I ask that You would please help me…help me restore what I have so hopelessly lost. I am more devoted to her than I am to any will but Yours…why is it that I have somehow lost sight of that? I have brought separation and grief to our hearts. Who am I to have done so? I need to be reminded that You bring us strength to balance our lives and You have given her to me so that I might have a physical presence of that strength. Help me not to be lost in the turmoil of my life…help me to remind her that she is the light that keeps me walking on this often exhausting path. I see her no matter what I am doing, and each moment more that passes brings me more guilt. Forgive me for neglecting the blessing You have given me; please help me to be the husband that she deserves.

Without realizing it, he had crossed the floor and was sitting on the bed beside her, and when he opened his eyes, he reached out a hand to her face. Gently, he traced those features, feeling the revelation of what he had been missing without that soft skin beneath his fingertips. He swallowed hard. "Forgive me, meleth…forgive my inattention, Arwen…" he said softly, and he sighed. He smoothly brushed strands of hair from her sleeping face, and he watched as she blinked slowly, her eyes focusing on him.

"Good morning," she whispered, and he could see the surprise in her eyes.

"Good morning, vanimelda," he replied with a soft smile, his voice husky. Her hand reached up and fingered his soft, dark hair.

"Is it day already, verno?" she asked just as softly. "Do you not have somewhere to be?"

"I do," he agreed, taking her hand, "but not where you might expect. This morning, Ilúvatar has brought many things to my attention, and it would do me good not to ignore His speech to my heart."

Arwen's eyebrows rose slowly. "What did he say to you?"

He pressed her palm to his lips, looking into her eyes. "Today is mine, to do with as I please, and I intend to take every minute of it and put it to good use. Will you…will you spend this spring day with me, Arwen?"

The surprise was clear on her face. "I would. What are we going to do with it?"

"It has been far too long since Asfaloth bore a rider," he suggested. "I thought perhaps we could begin there." He hesitated a moment and then sighed. "Is there anything that you had planned for the day that—"

"No," she answered immediately. "My day is yours."

Within the City itself, life was starting to stir. The day was beginning with that same beautiful sunrise that all could see, and as the light poured through Enguina's windows she woke. She blinked a few times, and then pulled the covers over her head. Must it be morning? This meant that she actually had to stop her most recent dream of Legolas. But…waking means that I am able to physically see him. That somehow sounded a lot better by the moment. She smiled to herself and rubbed her face in the pillow. It felt good, for a moment, to laugh.

How much she had changed in four short months! If she had not come to Minas Tirith to see Arwen, she would have been riding to the Grey Havens, where she thought peace awaited her, and now…now things were so different! She was in love; she had never thought it possible! Legolas, Legolas! She was the luckiest woman alive; she could not thank Ilúvatar enough for the blessing of this man who loved her in her life. Love, she had believed, was completely beyond her reach, but marriage? Impossible!

But it had happened. Legolas had asked her to be his wife…never mind that he was a prince of an Elvish Realm; never mind that he was the most beautiful man she had ever seen; never mind that he was caring and kind and wonderful and sensitive and humorous and…Eru in Heaven, her list could go on for hours! A little less than two months…two months until their wedding, and there was so much left to do. At least they had already sent messengers to those they wished to attend. She prayed with all her heart that Erumar would consent to come; though she did not expect too much. The poor thing had lost everything…she may have already died of a broken heart, though she refused to think that way. But if she thought of things she was most fretting, she hoped that Legolas' father would approve of her. Her stomach flipped over and she forced herself to relax. King Thranduil… No, it would not be easy to convince him that she was worthy of his son; especially when she did not think herself worthy. She tossed the covers off, determined not to think such things when she had just woken, and as she turned and swung her legs out of bed, she was surprised by the fact that there was a person in her bedroom!

There in a chair near the window sat the love of her life, the reason for her existence in Middle-Earth. The sunlight on his face, his eyes unfocused in sleep, his hands folded in his lap…every detail came to her attention. She wondered at him still being there, and then she remembered last evening. She had been sitting in front of the fire with him and they had been speaking…she must have fallen asleep in his arms. She smiled of the thought of him carrying her to bed, though she wished she had been awake for it. He must have been so weary that he simply fell asleep in the chair…but she knew there could possibly have been another reason. She sighed and rubbed her eyes and the bridge of her nose. Yes, it could certainly be that Legolas had stayed because of the nightmare…that was probably it.

Her dear husband-to-be had many long days lately, staying awake and watching her sleep. He was spending time with Gimli and with her as they planned the final details of the wedding. If he was not doing this, he was running errands, or he was with the King, and what they spoke of she knew not. He looked so peaceful sleeping there that she hated to wake him, though a part of her wished him to see her first in the morning. She sighed; choosing to allow him to sleep for a little longer, she gathered fresh clothes for the day and moved to the bath.

When the sun began to shine directly into Legolas' face, he woke. He rubbed his eyes, trying to force the spots in front of them to disperse. He shook his head and laughed softly at himself. Never fall asleep with your eyes toward the dawn. How many times had his father spoken of that to him? He wished he had taken count. Then he realized where he was, seated upright in a chair…the chair in the guesthouse. He groaned and rubbed his eyes again. Not again! People are going to talk, Legolas!

Once more, he had fallen asleep in Enguina's home. Gimli would not be worried; this had happened too many times to them, and the dwarf assumed he knew exactly where the elf was. But others? He was certain that people would begin to think…things. He had no desire at all whatsoever of giving that impression to a City that knew him so well, but that was not his only worry; he did not want anyone thinking ill of Enguina. They were innocent of any wrong-doing, and he would never think of laying a hand on her until they were wed; it was the proper thing to do. He frowned as he thought of the councilman's words to Arwen a few months ago…that was what they would think of Enguina if he was not careful. No, last evening he spent staring into the night, asking himself all sorts of questions. Were things well-planned for the wedding? Was everything going as scheduled? And, most importantly, what could he do about these dreams?

He shook his head. Why did he question himself? Ilúvatar himself was watching over Enguina, and all of his friends were wrapped up in the wedding, and though he did not believe it possible, they seemed more excited than he did! It rather amazed him. Although, he supposed, it should not have. The City had not had a large event in some time where members of other races had gathered; the last was after the War when the coronation took place. This wedding would be something delightful for the people to celebrate…no matter what sort of hassle it was to prepare for. Nothing could be done simply.

He loved Enguina with all his heart, and he wanted her to be happy. He was devoted to her and cared for her more than his own life. He knew all those he invited would love her as their own family; and uniting all his friends once more in one place would be a great blessing. Éomer had sent a messenger in return to let them know he was attending, and so had his father…all of them would be journeying to Minas Tirith to see him take a wife. He was blessed to have so many who desired to see him happy. He could not wait until they were all together once more.

Legolas heard her soft steps, and he raised his eyes to the doorway just as she entered. He gave her a sheepish smile, but hers was filled with delight. Her hair was wet, and she looked calmer than she had in days. "Forgive me, moina quén," he said softly, "I must have fallen asleep in this chair and forgotten to leave."

She laughed and she came to sit at his feet, reaching up a hand into his. "I do not mind, Legolas. I do…so enjoy waking up to you." She smiled as he blushed slightly. "You looked so peaceful this morning that I did not wish to wake you; it has been long since any of us have been able to truly rest." It was her turn to blush. "It is probably the reason I fell asleep in your arms last evening," she added sheepishly, "and it is mostly my fault that this has been happening."

He shook his head. "No, it is not. We cannot help what we dream, and you—"

"This morning," Enguina said, interrupting him, trying to distract him. "I was dreaming of you."

"You flatter me to make me forget," he said, giving her a smile. "But that is all right, dear one, for I am happy and content, and you have free reign to fall into my embrace whenever you so desire." She smiled.

"Are you certain that you should allow me such great freedom?"

"There are very few things I am more certain about…" he replied, and he bent forward so that his face was above hers, and he leaned over to brush his lips to hers gently.

"What are the other things you are so certain about?" she murmured against his lips.

"Mmm…my love for you…" She could not help but smile at that as he punctuated his words with another kiss. "That we are getting married in two months…that there is nothing more I would rather do but stay here with you every moment."

She grinned as he sat back and she rested her head on his knee. "Two months," she whispered. "Two more months and I can be at your side always."

He stroked her face. "Two more months and I will no longer have needless shame for remaining in your home long after I should have left."

"You should not have shame now," she replied. "Why should we care what people think?" A pout came over her face and she frowned at him. "What do they know? They do not understand that you and I are made for each other." She gave him a little smile then. "They would say nothing if they understood my need for you."

He touched her face gently again. "Do you truly want them to understand? To gossip about you like that? I would not have them impugn your honor or make you out to be some sort of scarlet woman."

She burst out laughing, even as he blushed. "Scarlet woman?" She grinned at him. "Oh, Legolas…you make me laugh! As if we should care what they think or say."

He sighed. "If it is all the same to you, though, I would prefer they do not whisper about you. I want to be as honorable as possible where you are concerned," he said seriously.

It was her turn to blush. "Legolas, no one who knows you would ever question that." He smiled at her, running his fingers through her hair. "These last few months have been hard on all of us," she said softly, enjoying the feel of him close to her. "We have been so busy preparing for the wedding; even with help it has been a short amount of time."

He was silent for a moment. "Do you think we need more time? Should we push it—"

"No," she said immediately. "I was just mentioning that it was stressful, not that I wanted to move it, Legolas. Beside, we have had help in the form of Arwen and Éowyn." She frowned and sighed again. "It has been…a difficult three months."

"I know what it is you speak of."

She was silent a moment. "I worry for them," she said suddenly, but softly. "It has been so hard on them both, the loss of their babe…" She could feel the lump form in her throat, but she swallowed it away. "Each time I see Aragorn, I worry he shall drop where he stands, and yet he presses forward. Arwen is physically well, but she has only regained a little of the weight she lost and I…I know she still dreams." She said the last a bit guiltily, and Legolas looked down into her face.

"How do you know that?"

"I was there the last time," she said softly, and Legolas knew immediately that meant she was asleep on their divan. "It was only a few days ago, and she woke crying in the night. Aragorn was there, but it took him so long to comfort her. I can sometimes see it in her eyes when she holds Annî, or looks at Éowyn. She and Aragorn both. Every once in a while I see that hungry look in their eyes, that look of despair."

"It is still too soon, I think, for Arwen to deal with it well."

"Arwen spoke to me," she continued softly, "when I first arrived…that she knew their time was short." She frowned, embarrassed. "Even I had said that mortals do not live longer than a horse in our eyes. Now I keep praying for more time every time I look at them." She blushed. "I feel as though this is gossip, but, I wish they would make more time for each other."

"As do I," he softly agreed. He laughed softly then, trying to lighten the mood again. "Gimli is beginning to drive me mad."

She laughed as well. "Is that because he is jealous that you would rather be here with me?"

"No," he chuckled, bending over to kiss her again, "he continues to offer to do things for me, or to help plan for something else." He shook his head. "I worry that he is plotting against me, for every time I turn about I seem to catch him in the planning of some devious act. I think I should begin to worry of what devilry he is developing for our wedding."

"Dearest," Enguina said soothingly, "I am certain that—"

"He is up to no good," he agreed, nodding. "Yes, that much I suspected."

"No, no, Legolas," she said, shaking her head, "I—"

"And I am certain that whatever it is he is planning, you are in on it," he said, poking her nose. She eyed him indignantly, placing her hand on her chest and sitting up straight.

"Me?" she asked innocently. "Wherever and whyever would you get such an impression? Have I ever done anything, my Lord, that would cause you such…suspicion?"

"You are the biggest tease!" he said. "If I were to tell you that I was not planning anything to drive you mad at the wedding—no jokes, no fooling about—"

"I would never believe you," she agreed honestly. "You are too much of a tease yourself. But, perhaps it is good to have a bit of healthy practical joking…at least when I am not on the receiving end." She gave him a devious little smile.

"Arwen told me not long ago that it was you who would always get them into trouble."

"Not at the start," she stated with confidence. "In the beginning our roles were reversed. Arwen was certainly the trouble and I was the one who dug us out. Later, when Arwen's mood turned shaded and she 'grew up,' she was the one who dug us out, and I…well, what was I supposed to do? I had to take the available trade she had left for me!"

He laughed. "You are both mad."

"But do not worry; I shall seek revenge upon Arwen for telling you such tales of my guilt." She patted his arm gently with a smile. "But you, Legolas, have nothing to fear." He looked deeply into her eyes and then squinted. He sat back with his arms crossing his chest.

"I do believe that is the first time you have lied directly to my face."

She burst out laughing and got to her feet. "You amuse me so, Legolas!"

"Yet you do not deny it."

She turned back and gave him a sly smile. "No, I shall not deny it."

"Thank Ilúvatar that at least you have not gained Aragorn as a friend in your fiendish ways. I shall have to persuade him that it will go easier for him if he were on my side."

Enguina's eyebrows rose. "You may have the freedom to try."

He looked hard at her. "Do not tell me you have already sought him out in your vicious schemes!"

She shrugged. "How can I not have the King involved?"

He threw up his hands in frustration. "Well, since I have been plotted against right and left this morning, I have decided that now is the time to make my exit." He rose as well and sighed, rolling his eyes. "Good day, my Lady."

He turned brusquely to leave, but she grabbed his arm, pulling him back toward her. Her other hand caught his other shoulder, and she held him in place as she kissed him hard. He laughed as she released him, and he shook his head.

"You are quite beautiful when your eyes are aflame," he said softly. She raised an eyebrow.

"I was not angry, love; I was determined." She smiled wickedly, "Never turn your back on a desperate woman." With that, she turned to slip past him into the other room, but he turned her back into him, pulling her into his arms and to his chest where he held her tight.

"Never turn your back on your loving husband," he whispered so softly.

"But we are not yet married," she replied in the same low tone.

"A lesson for when we are…" he returned, and then bent his head down to kiss her gently. Then, he slowly released her. "Im mela le, moina quén."

"I love you, too, dearest husband-to-be."

"I really must be on my way. You have an advantage over me," he teased, "as you are clean and I have not yet bathed. You will have to release me so that I can go."

She smirked at his teasing. "You do realize that it is you who are holding me?"

Glancing down, he did notice that his arms were around her…and he blushed, releasing her. "I suppose you are correct."

She held his arm for a moment more. "You are coming right back?"

He smiled at her and nodded. "Of course."

"I cannot wait until then," she replied, and he swiftly left her home for the faster he left, the faster he could return. She watched him go and, laying a hand on her heart, felt it flutter.

O! how she loved him!