Author's Note: Thank you to my guest reviewer! :O)
He had been so tired when he had fallen asleep in the chair that the first sign he noticed that something was wrong had been a strange half-choking, half-coughing noise. Sitting upright, he blinked and looked immediately to the bed, where Enguina was not to be found. He threw himself to his feet and saw the top of her blonde head shimmering in the moonlight from the window as she knelt on the floor on the opposite side of the bed. The sheets had been torn off the mattress; she was half-wrapped in one. She held a pot in her shaking hands, and he suddenly figured out what the half-choking noise had been that had woken him. This was one of those dreams.
Ilúvatar, I cry out to you! Help me to comfort her! Give me strength; give her peace!
He stepped slowly around the bed, watching her shoulders shaking, tears on her face. His heart wrenched for her; he wanted so badly to reach to her, but he knew only too well what might happen from the last time he had tried to comfort her following one of these 'night terrors.' The pot was lowered as he reached the edge of the mattress; a floorboard creaked. She startled so suddenly he nearly jumped himself; she had forgotten that he had been in the room with her.
Once again, she reacted, in full-flight mode. She leapt to her feet and made it halfway to the door before she stumbled, her feet tangled in the sheet, and nearly went to her knees. Legolas reached out and caught her before she fell. Trying to lunge backward away from him was impossible, and even as she looked into his face and recognized that it was him, she could not bear his touch. Not now…not so soon after that…that feeling. His hands were only holding her arms, yet, even that was too much. She nearly retched again, her mind on the memory of the pain, the dream, and she thrashed against him once before he had a chance to speak.
"Guin—"
"Let go!" she choked out, a horrified whisper strangling out of her throat. "O god, Legolas, please let me go! Pleasepleaseplease…"
"Enguina, let me help—"
"I…cannot…your hands…please…let go!"
Pain was clear on her face, but it was her words that struck him like a physical blow; she could not have him touching her? As he pulled his hands from her, she stumbled away from him, fell against the door frame, and then dropped to her knees in the hall. She lowered her head and held it in her hands, panting and shaking as he stood nearby, completely helpless. She was so weak that her legs could not hold her, and she dragged herself a few feet towards the door by her hands before turning and trying to make her way towards the bath.
Enguina did not make it. She had not dragged herself four steps before she retched again, barely able to support herself on one arm. She knelt there, coughing, sick as her head spun. He reached for her, unable to stand by and watch her any longer.
"Enguina, please…let me help you…" he laid a hand against the back of her head, but she wrenched away again, this time, breaking down into tears as she flung up a hand in between them to protect herself, snapping the ends of her nails against his chin, he was so close. She did not know it, but she was breaking his heart. He knelt beside her, both his hands in the air, his palms up.
"Eru in Heaven," he whispered, "I will not touch you, but…dear god, Guin, tell me how to help you…I cannot just sit here!"
Unable to support her weight any longer, the trembling overtaking her, she slumped back against the wall, her nightdress hanging from one shoulder, the sheet still wrapped around her ankles. She was sick, her brow and hair slick with sweat, her face whiter than snow. He had never seen her this way; yes, he had seen her ill before, once, on the road home two months ago. His own hands were beginning to shake, upset as he was, and he could bear it no longer.
"Please…I beg you. Tell me what to do."
She swallowed, hardly able to think about anything but the dream, the visions that swam in her head before her. "Ar…Arwen…Aragorn…" she whispered, her voice breaking at the end.
"It is too long to bring them here," he said. "Can I…if I wrap you in a blanket, can I carry you?" He could see her fingers twitching, her lips trembling. He was going to sit here no longer. He stood and hurried into her bedroom, scooping a blanket from the chair and returning to her side.
Shock struck his features when he saw bloody marks near her shoulders where there had been none moments before. It took him only a matter of seconds to see what she had done, as her hands rose again to tear at her own skin, her eyes tightly closed, a whimper on her lips.
"No, no, Guin!" he reached down and his hands stalled before they reached her as he grieved about being pushed away again, frightening her again…but he had to stop her, did he not? Grabbing her hands, he held them tight, her eyes snapping open to try and shove back, react react react was all her mind was screaming. Her head knocked against the wall and she winced in pain for a moment…and he quickly used that moment to wrap the blanket around her without her noticing.
She groaned aloud, her eyes snapping open to meet his as she gasped, her voice pleading, "Legolas…you…you have to stop touching me…"
"I…want to take you to Arwen," he said, trying to put aside his feelings for the moment, "and you cannot walk. I must carry you."
"That…no…"
"I will not…" he swallowed, forcing his pain away, "I will not touch your skin. Please…I have to help you."
"No…" she replied, violently shaking her head, her face still pale and sweaty. He ignored her plea and slipped his arms beneath her, scooping her up into them and holding her tight to his chest. She resisted once, and then had no choice but to let him carry her; she was exhausted, sick and weak. There was little she could do while in his strong arms. She muttered his name, her fingers digging through the blanket to latch on to the front of his tunic. He was glad they were there instead of tearing her skin to pieces. If this was the only thing he could do for her…then so be it.
They should have been expecting it; that was Aragorn's first thought when he and Arwen were startled upright in their bed as the front door of their home was forced open, banging against the wall so hard it sounded like thunder overhead. Instead, they were caught unaware and half-asleep as they stumbled their way out of their bedroom and, to their surprise, nearly ran into Legolas as he carried Enguina towards the divan.
"Arwen—"
"We know," she interrupted softly, and Aragorn swerved around them towards the kitchen. "Lay her down over there."
He did as he was told, his hands shaking as he tugged them back from Enguina's body, and Arwen slipped between them, taking the elf into her arms. Enguina was trembling so hard that the divan was shaking, but Arwen pressed her to her chest and laid her head against hers.
"Shh…you are safe, Enguina," she whispered. "You are safe; Legolas brought you here, just as he said he would. Everything is going to be all right."
Legolas stared at her. How could she know that? How could she know that he had said such a thing to her? Aragorn stepped past him, this time carrying another blanket which he wrapped securely around Enguina, carefully placing his hands. Enguina's trembling worsened and she began to cry in earnest, her face pressed into Arwen's neck as the elf tried to soothe her. The man reached out and caught Legolas's arm.
"Come with me," he said, "until the tea boils." Legolas blindly followed Aragorn; he had nowhere else to go, and he was not very well going to leave her here…not after bringing her himself. "Sit," the man said, gesturing vaguely toward a chair, "she will not be able to speak to you for some time yet. You might as well wait." But Legolas could not sit. Instead, he found himself staring at Aragorn, and even more interestingly, found himself very irritated, asking the same question in his head that he had not been annoyed enough to ask earlier aloud. Aragorn, leaning against the table, crossed his arms, watching the elf pace.
"You are upset," he stated, and then allowed Legolas to fume until he filled in the empty space.
"Yes, I am upset," he snapped, narrowing his eyes at Aragorn. "How can I not be upset? You at least seem to know exactly what is going on here and I have not an inkling!" He glared at the man. "She is not some stranger on the road that I found on my way to the House! This is the woman who is soon to be my wife, losing control, physically ill, nightmares taking her mind, while I am forced to sit idly by watching it happen! Where is the justice in that?" He was so frustrated that his hands balled into fists, and then he pointed a finger accusingly at Aragorn. "She has been here many times; I know you know what is happening here!
"It is not within my power to tell you the truth," Aragorn returned softly.
"What in the name of Heaven is going on? My closest friend will not tell me—"
"Legolas," Aragorn said trying to be reasonable, "you knew that there were times when Enguina would come here—"
"But I had no idea how ill she was!" he said miserably. "And you never saw fit to tell me."
"Legolas, this is not my story to tell," he added. Legolas opened his mouth to object, but Aragorn shook his head and continued, "And that is how it will remain."
Legolas gritted his teeth. "Whose story is it then? Arwen's? One of you will tell me," he said angrily. "I will make—"
"You will do nothing of the kind," Aragorn said a bit sternly, "and you will control your temper. Anger will get you nowhere here, Legolas." The elf's lips became a thin line at being met only with frustration, and Aragorn continued simply, his voice now soft. "The story is Enguina's alone…and only she can know, only she can choose, the time to divulge the tale. It is not my place. You must see that."
Legolas groaned loudly and then heavily sank down into a chair beside the man. "Aragorn, this is killing me! To see her this way, unable to hold her, comfort her…even touch her! You have to understand my frustration!"
"I do," he said gently and Legolas slapped a hand against the table.
"Then imagine if Arwen were in Enguina's place, and instead of running to you for comfort, she ran to someone else—to me, to Enguina! How would that make you feel, Aragorn? To know, that you could not comfort her, that she needed to seek the arms of someone else?"
"Terrible," he replied honestly, "but you can say nothing on this matter that will turn me. Forgive me, but on this subject I am closed."
"You have sentenced me to unbearable torment," he whispered, dropping his head into his hands. "This cannot be borne!"
Aragorn hesitated, and then laid a hand on the elf's shoulder. "Legolas, I can only imagine how cruel this must seem to you, and for Arwen and I to be the bearers of such a secret is hard to accept. I am sorry. You—"
"Aragorn?" came Arwen's soft call from the other room.
"Excuse me," Aragorn said, straightening and heading towards the sitting room where he crossed to Enguina. Legolas, unable to sit while he knew there was something going on in the other room, followed him, but only to the threshold. He did not enter; instead, he leaned against the doorjamb, waiting…watching.
"She is freezing," Arwen murmured to Aragorn as he reached them. She looked up into his face, and he nodded as he crouched down beside them, lifting a hand and settling it into her hair. Enguina flinched at his touch, but did not pull away. She had been through this before, and she knew that sometimes simply between his comforting warmth and Arwen's arms, she could chase the darkness from herself. Her trembling began to become less frequent, and she let out the breath she had been holding.
"There now," Arwen said gently, smoothing her hair. "You are all right…safe."
"I feel…" Enguina whispered, tears choking her voice, "I feel as though I am still dreaming. That I am still there…"
"Aiwë," Aragorn said, "you are not. Arwen is telling the truth. No one can harm you here; we are here to protect you." He lifted his hand from her head.
"Perhaps a little more light in here," Arwen said softly and Aragorn nodded. Turning, he began lighting a fire in the hearth. He glanced up and found Enguina's red eyes fixed on him.
"Legolas?" she whispered.
"He is here," he replied. "Do you—"
She swallowed hard, and buried her face in Arwen's neck again. "Not…not yet," she mumbled, and Legolas turned back away into the kitchen.
She did not want to talk to him? Could she not face him? Was she afraid of what he thought of her? Dear Ilúvatar, he could not be without her! He was terribly worried; he feared for her, the way she hurt herself, how she was physically ill because of these dreams. Sitting back down at the table, he laid his head in his hands and sat quietly. He more felt Aragorn enter the room than heard him as the man walked to the hearth and filled a mug of tea. Legolas could smell the calming herbs; even the scent was helpful to his shattered sense of peace. Aragorn turned to go back out, but Legolas caught his sleeve.
"Is there no way for me to help her?" he pleaded, and he sounded so miserable, so distraught, that Aragorn took pity on him. He frowned.
"Pray for her, Legolas…pray that she will find the strength to tell you about her dreams…and, with time, that you can heal her wounds."
Legolas eyed him sadly. "You are the Healer, Aragorn. What can I do?"
"You will be her husband," he said softly, "and your words, your thoughts, your prayers, mean more than any amount of comfort from me ever could. Keep that in mind. She may not be able to tell you what is happening, Legolas, but she still needs you to be here. What do you think would happen to her if she had asked if you were here and I had responded with negative words?"
The elf frowned deeply and swallowed. "I do not wish to think of it."
"Then pray, and keep watch…wait for her to be ready." He sighed softly. "It has to be soon now; I cannot imagine she will be able to keep you waiting much longer."
"Why might you say that?"
"Because she needs you," he said simply. "Because she needs your reassurance, not ours. She will see it…soon enough." He glanced back toward the other room. "Let me take her the tea; she is exhausted. Before she falls asleep, she will ask for you." He turned back to him and his eyes were sincere. "Be patient, Legolas."
"There is only so much suffering one heart can watch," he said softly. "I do not know what the limit of mine is."
Aragorn's eyes grew sad. "You barely know what suffering is, Legolas," he said softly. "And you can take much more of it than you would like to think. I would urge you again…be patient with her. It is going to take time."
The man turned from the elf and made it to the door before Legolas blurted out, "Did she tell you?" He had not meant for it to leave his mouth the way it did, but the words lingered between them. He would not take them back; now that he had asked, he had to know the answer.
"No," Aragorn told him. "No, she did not."
The man left the room, and Legolas stared after him, waiting…planning…
It was many minutes later when Arwen entered the room, pausing at the threshold. She had her eyes closed, her arms crossed against her nightdress, her face pointed towards the roof. He watched her sigh heavily and then she opened them, looking over at him. Turning to face him, she leaned her hip against the table.
"No rest for the weary," she said softly, trying to smile.
Legolas had thought of nothing else but what he would say to her when he saw her next from the moment Aragorn left the room. He reached up and took one of her hands in his.
"Arwen, for the sake of my sanity and hers, will you not act out of compassion?" he asked gently. "Will you not give me peace of heart so that I do not have to worry for Enguina anymore?"
"What…" she hesitated, and then asked, "what are you asking me for, Legolas?"
"Please…will you not tell me what is tearing her apart? Tell me of her dreams…tell me what is happening in her head when she is lashing out, when she is so ill she cannot stand. I cannot bear to see her this way."
She gently tugged her hand back out of his. "Legolas…I can hardly bear it myself," she whispered, "but there is nothing I can do to ease your suffering. I cannot…I cannot break her trust."
His eyes narrowed for a brief moment. "But you would tell Aragorn."
Her lips firmed. "I needed to."
"Arwen, I love her…nothing will ever change the way I feel about her. My love is constant, true, forever…does that mean nothing?"
"Legolas, if I…if I had not told Aragorn the truth, Enguina might be sailing to the Undying Lands right now…and she would never have known how you felt about her. You would not have even had a chance to fall in love with her."
"So…I should be grateful that he knows and I do not?" His voice was full of resentment; he could not help it.
"Not that you do not know…of course you should not be grateful for that," she chided him. "Indeed, you should know…and you should be upset. In fact, you would be remiss if you did not tell Enguina of your need to know." She smiled at the look of surprise on his face. "Yes, Legolas, I am encouraging you to tell Enguina the truth. Do not pretend that her dream does not affect you; it affects you both. You need to urge her, when you can, to tell you the truth. Tell her to stop hiding."
"She does not wish to tell me," he said bitterly. "I have asked her many times."
"But you have not been there before," she said gently, "not during the dream. This is different. You are so close to the truth, and…she does not have much time left until there should be no more secrets between you."
He raised an eyebrow at her. "Do not tell me those who are wed do not have secrets. Aragorn keeps many things from you; I know it."
"They should not," she sighed, closing her eyes. "I know of Aragorn's secrets; I let him keep them. He does such things to protect me, and sometimes, Legolas, there are things a person should not know. And sometimes those things come out…when neither one of us is expecting them."
"But I should know Enguina's secret…" he said, trying to lead her again into telling him.
"When you told her you could help her bear the burden…she wants to believe you. Your knowing would only lessen her fears," she added softly. "And when you are sleeping in the same bed…" She shook her head. "She has to tell you, Legolas…before you are married."
"Can you not simply tell me?" he asked, frustrated. "It would be so much easier if you just—"
"It is…too painful," she whispered, and he saw her cover her heart with a hand. "I will not ever tell it again…I cannot. Do not ask it of me."
He looked at her then, and felt the heavy weight of guilt, thinking of Aragorn's words to him of temperance and patience…and everything Arwen had been through in these past few months…and how close she and Enguina were. Standing, he placed both of his hands on her shoulders.
"Forgive me for being so insensitive," he said softly. "I am so sorry; I will not ask again."
She did not look at him. "She must tell you," she said. "I have been telling her…and telling her." He could hear the frustration in her voice.
"Thank you, Arwen, for encouraging her to tell me," he said, a bit humbled. "I…did not think that…well…"
She tried to smile. "It mattered to us if you knew? Oh, Legolas, do not be so foolish."
He sighed, releasing her shoulders. "How is she?"
"Exhausted," she said honestly. "This…night terror always takes her strength. And she is confused. And hurt…always hurt." She sighed softly, closing her eyes again. "I wish…I wish that I could take her pain away."
"But you cannot," Aragorn said softly from the doorway. Both turned to look at him, and he nodded to Legolas. "She is asking for you."
The elf glanced down into Arwen's face and she gave him an encouraging smile. "Tell her, Legolas; tell her everything." He nodded and moved past Aragorn into the other room. Aragorn left him to it, and went to Arwen's side. She breathed out slowly. "Aragorn—"
"I know," he agreed. "I am, too." Running his fingers through her hair, he continued, "Did he ask you?"
"Yes," she whispered, frowning at him. "He asked, but I could not tell him. She must be the one to do it."
"That is what I told him."
"And she would never forgive me if I told another person," she added, "especially him." She leaned forward to rest her forehead against the base of his throat. "She barely forgave me for telling you. My eyes are closing. What did you tell Enguina?"
He smiled, wrapping his arms around her back. "That she may spend the night in the sitting room…that Legolas may stay with her if she wants…that we will be fast asleep in the other room 'til daybreak, and if she has any need for anything to either send Legolas or come herself."
"Oh…you are good," she replied. "You have covered every possibility."
He pressed his lips to the top of her head. "And I left the tea boiling. I thank you. How are you feeling?"
"How are you feeling?" she asked.
"Hmmm…" That was enough of an answer to the question to make her smile. "Time for bed."
With his arm around her, they quietly made their way back to their bedroom, leaving the couple at the window seat all to themselves.
Legolas entered the sitting room and walked quietly to Enguina's side. He wanted to touch her, but instead, he knelt beside her and rested a hand on the divan. She opened her eyes; she did not startle. She looked at him, and he looked back, and she read a million things in his eyes that could have come out his mouth…but they did not. Instead, he simply gave her a smile, as though everything was going to be all right.
Tears flooded her eyes, but she forbid them to fall, and she reached out to cover his hand with hers, lifting it and laying it against her cheek. Immediately, his other hand followed, laying on her head and curling her hair around his fingertips.
"I wanted to touch you," he said gently, "but I did not wish to hurt you, cause you fear…bring you pain."
"You…" she began thickly, but she had to swallow and try again. "It is I who am bringing you pain," she said. "Every time I dream, and I react to you the way I do, I hurt you…" She reached up then and stroked his face from ear to chin. "I can see it in your eyes."
It was his way to deny her words first. "Guin—"
"No," she whispered, "you have always been honest with me…do not change now because it is what I wish to hear."
He frowned at her. "I hurt when you are in pain. Tonight I…tonight was the most difficult thing I have had to do since…well, since a time I do not wish to remember as well as I do. It broke my heart to have you there, inches from me, and not be able to wrap you in my arms and bring you comfort." He looked at her honestly. "I do not think I was made to see you in pain."
One side of her lip curled upward. "No, I am certain that you were not."
"Guin, can you not…can you not tell me?" he asked softly, and she closed her eyes at the question. He frowned. "You need to stop trying to hide from me."
She sighed and it was a bit heavy. "Are those your words?" She opened her eyes to see the truth in his when he answered.
"Arwen's, to be honest," he said without hesitation, "but it is I who mean them. Enguina, you have pledged me your heart…can you not trust me to keep it safe, to protect you?"
She had hurt him…even more than she had expected, than she had thought. "Oh, Legolas…I can never forgive myself for hurting you."
He studied her face, rubbing his thumb against her cheek. "Forget all about it; it does not matter. What matters is what we will do for the next nightmare…or the one after that. Are you going to suffer in silence, and then come running here…or are you going to let me help you? Are you going to run to me?"
"Can…can you not simply hold me tonight…and forget the dreams until—"
"No," he answered, pain in his face, "Ilúvatar, Enguina, your agony is all I see! How can I forget them? You cannot ask me to do that."
She gave him a little smile. "Now, there is the uncompromising Legolas I know…the one who can let nothing go, even when it would be better to do so. Protective to a fault."
"That is I," he agreed. "Over-protectiveness runs in my family, very deep, very strong. Expect our children's children's children to be dealing with the same fault." He looked at her seriously. "This trait has served me well, even though it may be your least favorite and will bring some disturbances into our wedded bliss."
She actually laughed at that. "Oh, one cannot have too much bliss, you know. Life would be a bit dull. A couple must disagree to keep life interesting."
"You think that you have slipped the noose for your charms are beguiling," he said, his voice turning soft, "but you are sadly mistaken."
"Legolas—"
"I will not be brushed aside by sweet-talk or irritation," he told her, but lovingly. "Guin, I adore you, love you, and want you to be my wife more than I want anything in my life. I want you to be at peace; this nightmare you have…it is hurting you more by the day. I cannot fight against something I cannot see, something I know nothing about. Tell me what is hurting you. Let me share this burden…as your husband."
She lowered her hand from his face and blinked slowly several times before answering. "You keep asking me to give this to you, my agony, my sorrow. But you do not know how it will…how it will change things; how it will kill me to tell you."
"Why?" he asked. "Can you tell me that? How will it change things?" He shook his head and slipped his other hand beneath her head so he could cup her face. "Do you not remember my words out under the stars that night, Guin? Can you not remember them? That I will love you no matter what? That you could tell me nothing that would change my love for you?"
"Oh…" she whispered, "I remember your words, Legolas."
"Do you not believe them?" he asked, and she knew he did not want to hear her answer.
"I…know that you believe them with your whole heart," she answered, and her eyes were full of pain. "I want so badly to tell you—"
"Then just say it. Right now…just tell me," he said. "Choose to trust me. What is in your dream? What do you see, feel?" She flinched at the last word; he heard her breath catch.
"Dear Eru, I cannot tell you," she said. "I…do not know if I can ever tell you."
He looked down at her fingers, digging into the seat and he released her face to slip his hand in hers. "When we are married…there will not be any more secrets between us." She tried to take her hand back, but he refused to release her, sliding his fingers through hers to make the grip stronger. "And we will be better for that, our love will be stronger for that honesty." He looked up into her eyes and he saw a flash of terror there for a second before there was sadness once again.
"You can honestly tell me…you have no secrets? There is nothing you are hiding from me, not telling me because you are…trying to protect me? Trying to avoid me?"
It was how she knew he was serious when he took a bit of time to think before he answered her. "There is…one time of my life that you asked me about that I wished to avoid speaking of. If you ask it of me, I will tell you…all of it." He looked directly into her face. "I promised to share every part of myself and my life with you…and I will hold to that promise. Everything I am and have is yours, moina quén. I have never been so blessed with a desire to share my life as I have a desire to share it with you."
"You would tell me, talk with me, about things you would rather to never discuss again with another living soul?"
"Enguina, I would tell you anything you could ever wish to know," he replied. "If you were to ask me now, I would tell you."
"I…I wish I could say I was at that place, Legolas," she whispered in reply, her voice sounding more tired as she spoke. "I wish I could be where you are. But I will be honest with you when I say I am not there, especially not tonight." She frowned and closed her wet eyes. "I am…so sorry."
He reached out, took her in his arms, and carried her to the floor before their hearth, where he curled her into his chest, laying his head on hers. She sighed, comforted then, by his arms. She listened to him breathing, listened to the fire sparking, listened to her own heart.
"I…cannot forgive you," he said honestly, and he felt her stiffen. "I am still irrevocably and unfathomably in love with you, but as long as you are in pain then I, too, am in pain. And because you shall not tell me, then you must give me something."
She was silent for a moment, her face in his neck. "The very infamous Legolas-bargain," she said softly, knowing she was nearly cracking a smile. "What do I owe to you?"
"When having this nightmare, from now on…you must allow me to be at your side. I will not—I cannot leave you again. Not like that," he said, shaking his head, rubbing his chin against her hair, "not when you are hurting so much." He thought about her voice echoing in his head. "You must allow me to stay at your side, comfort you if I can, and be there to help you come back to the world if I am not the one who can bring you comfort."
"Legolas, we discussed this only this morning," she said gently. "What will people—"
"I do not give a damn what people think," he said softly, seriously, "My only concern is you now. I will sleep in the chair at your bedside until we are wed, but I will not leave you again."
"And…what do my chaperones say about that?" Enguina asked, picking up her head and looking into his face. He smiled at her.
"I will tell them that it simply is…until you can tell me your dreams."
She chewed the inside of her lip for a moment before she spoke. "Legolas, I love you more than life…and it is your constancy, your devotion, that has taught me how sincere you are. I know you love me, but somewhere in my mind I have to believe that what you said is true…that nothing will change, not even the way you look at me."
He had reassured her of this a thousand times, yet her dreams were still fighting him. "Will you agree to my demands…at least until you can tell me the truth?"
She hesitated. "Do you…understand what it costs me to say yes to this?"
"Yes," he said, nodding, "and it would be easier on us both if you just told me your dreams. I am willing to suffer alongside you, even while I do not understand…but I will not suffer ten houses away. Will you agree?"
"And what if the wedding comes before…I have told you?"
"Then we will stay up all night before the wedding until I can draw it out of you," he whispered. "Will you agree?"
He was pushing her. She weighed her options. She was in no way being fair to him; she could have his comfort yet not tell him the whole tale? And what would happen when she could not have him touch her? Was he trying to drive her to feel so guilty that she would tell him? If that was his goal, and the dreams were going to be as frequent as they had been, then she knew that he would win; the guilt would be unbearable.
"What if I told you that pushing me will get you nowhere?"
"I would not believe you for a moment," he said, in that same low tone. "I have been as honest with you as I can possibly be." He leveled his gaze at her and raised an eyebrow. "Will you—"
"Lord Above," she whispered fiercely, "do not ask me again! I will agree, Legolas."
"Consider this," he said gently, tilting her chin up so he could look in her eyes, "your first lesson in truly sharing your life with someone. We are going to become one…we should practice."
"I…I want to tell you everything, Legolas," she whispered. "It is just that I…am afraid." She hesitated and then continued honestly, "I love you." She could feel his breath on her lips, and she felt that familiar, yet uncontrollable desire to press her lips to his. Her eyelids fluttered.
He closed the distance and kissed her, gently at first, before he broke in with an, "I love you, too." Then she lost herself in that kiss, eager to forget the night's terrors and just be his only love. She wanted to be known as nothing else.