Enguina was coming to realize that there would be no easy way to have or even begin a serious conversation with Legolas. The day was going to be difficult enough even when he asked about the dream he knew she had, and part of her began trying to talk herself out of saying a word and simply sitting with him. And then…the words of Arwen returned to her and the sorrow of what she had said to her weighed down her heart. Arwen was right. If she did not speak with Legolas, how could she begin to accept what had happened? Would Legolas ever understand? Would she ever be able to make peace with this, knowing that Legolas could not comprehend what had happened because she had never been honest with him? No, there would be no going back. Enguina would talk with Legolas. Arwen was right; enough was enough, and it was time to try for some acceptance.

Bragolaur had assaulted her, twice. She said it over and over in her mind; at least a thousand times since she had been walking with Legolas. Sadly, she felt it was not going to make it any easier to say it out loud later. To admit that it had happened, to tell Legolas the truth, was the first step to moving on. She needed to do this; to trust Arwen, to trust Legolas, to trust Ilúvatar that things would get better, easier, from here, and with two weeks to the wedding, it was now or never—and it could not be never.

She was sitting now, taking in the beauty of the expanse of the Reunited Kingdom's lands from what had become their special place. In the winter it had been quite cold here, but now in late spring, there were even small flowers and moss growing near some of the rocks. It was so quiet; Legolas had no intention of breaking the silence. He sat, stroking her hand, his fingers catching every once in a while on the ring he had given her, but otherwise he was content to sit and wait her out. A part of her seriously hated that; she wished that a terrible bout of impatience would suddenly strike him and he would talk about anything and everything to draw her out. But Ilúvatar was not going to give her an easy way out; why should he? She had waited until now to do this; it was her own fault.

Lord, give me strength! Please, Father, help me. It was her plea. This time, the words from her song called from her heart in silence. How many times have you heard me cry out to please take this? Arwen rescued me last night on your call; show me what to do. Give me the strength to do this! I need you…oh, I need you.

She sighed, and he squeezed her hand, the only sign that he had heard her as he did not even turn his head. Looking down, she studied their hands together, and she thought again to how she could have had none of this, how she could have been utterly without him and what a terrible end she would have made for herself. What a despicable thing she had nearly done! Thank Ilúvatar that Arwen had come; thank Ilúvatar for Arwen's words! She blinked back the tears.

"Legolas," she muttered, and she heard him shift, knowing he had turned to look at her, "Legolas, I love you. I love you more than I can…even more than I can describe and I…I know that you love me. I have been so unbelievably selfish, and you, selfless. You have been so full of understanding, and so full of compassion for me that I simply…I…" She shook her head. "I do not deserve it!"

"Guin—"

"No, no…you have…you have no idea…" she muttered, half to herself, half to him. "I have been…Legolas, I want to marry you more than I…more than anything. I love you," she told him, swallowing hard. "I love you." He cupped her face in his hand, the other still holding hers, his face full of concern.

"I love you, too," he whispered. "Slow down, moina. Be calm. I am right here; I am not going anywhere."

"I know…believe me, I know," she said, laughing hoarsely as a tear slipped down her cheek. "You are the best man in all of Middle-Earth and I am…I am the biggest fool in all of Middle-Earth. God, if you knew…if you knew…"

"If I knew what?" he asked, so confused. "Guin, take it easy—"

"In all of this madness tonight, my dream, my…" she shook her head. No, there was no way she could tell him what she had done a few hours ago. No way. "Legolas, I had a…I had an argument with Arwen."

"What?" he asked, simply out of reflex and disbelief.

"I fought with her," she said, looking into his face. "She said some things—true things—that I did not want to admit, that I did not want to believe. She…told me that I was missing everything that mattered, and that I was clinging to everything that did not." Enguina's eyes closed as they filled. "She told me that unless I told you the truth, unless I really, truly, honestly spoke with you, that I would never be free," she whispered, her breath catching. "That B-B-Br-Bragolaur will continue to haunt me, chase me, rule my heart, if I would not tell you the truth. That if I do not tell you, then I must not love you."

When she was met with silence, she opened her eyes and saw his, burning with fury.

"She said what?" he snapped.

"No, Legolas, she was right," she admitted.

"That is the…that is ridiculous!" he sputtered angrily. "How could she—after everything you have been through—"

"She was right," she repeated, holding his hand tightly.

"Do not protect her!" he practically snarled. He was so angry he could—

"Do not be angry with her!" she cried, interrupting him and preventing him from rising and pacing as a caged lion. "If there is someone you should be angry with, it should be me. I have been so selfish! Legolas, you have been more patient with me than I deserve. Because I love you, because we will be sharing our lives together, I should tell you. What good do secrets and lies do for me, for us? What good is it to hide the truth from you, even if it brings me pain? I have been…completely unfair to you. I have been wrong. And Arwen, even though it tore me apart…I feel as though I have finally breathed for the first time since…since you were tied to that tree." She finished, scarcely catching her breath. "I realize what you mean to me, and I have to face what has happened in order to love you the way I should, the way you deserve. I have to tell you the truth. I have to be honest, to tell you everything." She swallowed hard again. "You deserve the truth. Perhaps she is right," she said with a derisive laugh, "perhaps after I tear myself apart telling you the truth that I will find that I should have told you months ago, that I will find some peace in the telling…that I will no longer deny it happened."

The last words came out as a whisper, and he suddenly found himself wishing she would choose not to tell him, not if it was going to bring her this much pain. But telling her so now, telling her that he did not want to hear when she was so ready to finally tell him would only hurt her more. No, if this was the path she needed after all this time then he would hear her. He stroked her face, trying to rein in his anger, trying to understand how Arwen was right even when it had hurt her so much.

"I will listen," he said gently, and she nibbled her bottom lip, which he then brushed with his thumb. "Do not do that."

She laughed through her tears. "I have owed you the truth for so long, I barely know where to begin. This…this is going to be so hard. I…may not be able to look at you at all."

His eyes flooded with concern. "Enguina, I am not going to judge you. I love you, adore you; nothing is going to change that. Ever."

"Yes, you…you keep telling me that."

"You should begin to believe it."

She stared at him. "I…I should. I do."

He smiled. "That is a good beginning." There was quiet as she looked at him.

"IhitArwenintheface!" she blurted out suddenly, and then she winced as he stared at her.

"You…what? Hit—?" As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he remembered the bruising on Arwen's face. "During the nightmare?"

"No," she groaned. "I was so angry with her, for what she said, that I struck her in the face with my fist." Legolas could not help but think, after hearing what she had said, that Arwen had probably deserved it. Enguina covered her face. "Ah, I shall never forgive myself for it. No amount of temper should be followed by that! And some of the things I…some of what I said…"

"Everything between you seemed all right this morning," he began comfortingly.

"That is just it! That is because you all seem to be in the habit of forgiving me when I do not deserve it!" she groaned. "Legolas, it is entirely unreasonable."

"Forgiveness is not earned, moina. If you deserved it, it would not be forgiveness. Arwen has clearly forgiven you for hitting her; forgive yourself."

Forgive yourself. The words struck her heart. She had said, had done, so many things these past few weeks and months that she was ashamed of. She was ashamed of what had happened with Bragolaur, but perhaps telling Legolas would help her, it would help her overcome her shame of what had happened and then allow her betrothed to help heal her heart as he had been doing every day since he had entered her life. It might help her to admit that it happened, aloud…to someone that mattered.

"Let me…let me try to tell you what I can," she said a bit uncomfortably. "What happened with Arwen…well, it stemmed from my shame, my discomfort over the truth. Oh, Legolas…what I would not give for you to already know so that I…so that I did not have to say one word about this. But…what good would that do?"

"I will know once you tell me," he told her in that gentle voice again. "Do not be afraid."

"It is not fear," she whispered, tears in her voice. "It…it is…"

"Shame?" he suggested softly.

"Shame," she muttered painfully, her face burning. He released her hand and cupped her head again, rubbing his thumbs along her cheekbones and ears.

"You should not even feel shame. There is no humiliation when there is no judgment," he told her. "And there should be no shame when you are not to blame for what happened." Sighing, he continued, "Oh, Guin, how I wish I could make you understand how much I care for you, how much I hurt for your pain."

"I know…I swear that I know." She paused, and then gathered her wits and thought about where to begin. "Let me…let me think for a moment, where to…tell the story from…how to tell it." It was not easy, and she found herself unable to look in those trustworthy eyes.

"I had known Br-Bragolaur for many years. He was a Lieutenant under Captain Andocheb, as was Haldir, so they were close friends. He knew my family well," she said, trying to speak normally as Legolas took both of her hands in his own to still the inevitable wringing before it began, "and he spent many of his nights either in our company or in Haldir's family home. He was a…he was a good man. He had all the appearance of someone who was trustworthy, he was a good friend to my brother, and my mother and father approved greatly of him. He could do no wrong within our family. He was…he was like another brother to me. He kept a watchful eye, like a guardian.

"When Arwen came to stay for several years before Aragorn's arrival in Lórien, Bragolaur began to court me. She did not like him," she shook her head. "I knew it, but she had never said so. Bragolaur had always, since I had known him, called me 'fair one.'" She shuddered, and he scooted a bit closer to her; she was grateful for the warmth. "Thank you," she whispered, and then swallowed and continued. "It had become a simple endearment to me, but it meant something different to him. I did not know that until…well, much later.

"He courted me for some time; during that time, my parents decided that they were ready to sail for Valinor. I was to travel, along with a gathering of elves, to the Grey Havens and then return to Lórien with them. It was a journey I was thrilled to be making; I had never been outside the woods of Lothlórien, and we spent months preparing for the trip. A week before our departure and much to my surprise, Bragolaur…Bragolaur proposed. He asked me to wed him."

"Why did it surprise you?" Legolas asked her softly. "It seems reasonable that since he knew your family so well and you that he would think a union between you both would be a happy event."

"He never spoke to my father," she said. "He never asked him for permission; I discovered this on the journey to the Havens. He never let on that he felt...that sort of attraction for me. Though he studied me like no one else." She looked up into his face, wondering how she could have ever thought Bragolaur had loved her when she knew the look in Legolas's eyes. How had she been so blind? "I was surprised but…I could not imagine saying no.

"It was…it was Arwen, even in her state of despair, that told me to take the journey to think about it. She was the only one who knew of his question; I did not tell my parents until we were journeying, and I never told Haldir…not even Erumar knew he had asked. Arwen asked me if I loved Bragolaur, and at the time, I had no idea how to answer her. He was the first person I knew that I felt something for. I just did not know what it was; I thought it was love, but I did not want to say yes to him when I would be gone for several months. I…took Arwen's advice."

"Yet, you knew that Arwen did not approve of him?"

"She…wanted me to be happy," Enguina said softly. "Despite her own reservations, she told me that she was worried about the look in Bragolaur's eye, and that the way he looked at me made her uncomfortable. I told her…well, I told her that she was full of utter nonsense and she was worried over nothing. She told me that she would be happy for me, that she would support my choice, but she thought I should think about it. Bragolaur was not pleased with the long waiting…" she smiled ruefully, "what man would be? But he agreed to wait. I took this as a good sign, and left."

"Did you love him, Guin?" Legolas asked, studying her.

"Legolas," she replied honestly, looking him full in the face, "I did not even know what love was before you. I knew of it, but I had never experienced it before. I thought that my feelings for Bragolaur were love. How was I supposed to know?" Looking baffled, lifting her shoulders. "I did not know any better! I had no idea that what I felt for him was not love…or at least, not the love I have come to understand. Not when I left Lórien anyway." She sighed.

"Upon my return, I found Arwen in unparalleled better spirits, my brother nearly a changed man, and Bragolaur awaiting my response. After spending nearly two seasons at the Havens and many hours long in thought, I had finally figured out my feelings for Bragolaur. What I felt for him was exactly like what I had felt for my brother. I did love him, but I loved him like I loved Haldir, or even Arwen. I cared for him," she whispered, "but that was not what I thought love was supposed to be like. I had spoken with my parents; though they had been together for thousands of years, even they were not the image of 'love' that I had imagined. Oh Legolas, I-I wanted to be loved; I yearned for real love."

"You deserved it," he told her, squeezing her hands as she looked down at them. "I have told you this a thousand times. You deserve to be loved as Ilúvatar loves you—"

"As you love me," she whispered.

"Even so."

"I told Arwen the truth of my discovery," she said, her voice still soft. "She was pleased that I had made a choice, sorry that I had discovered I did not love him, but I knew she was secretly pleased that I had not chosen him. Funny enough, I was not sorry. I met him one morning while I was out walking and we spoke at length about my journey and then my love for him. I explained everything to him, and he…he was so angry. I had never seen him angry, passionate, furious. He tried to convince me, telling me how beautiful I was, that I was made for him, that we were meant to be together, that I was meant to be his gorgeous wife and…and that was the moment I realized that he barely knew me," she explained, disgusted. "The only reason he wanted me was because I was a pretty face, and I was the sister of Haldir, the man who would become Captain of the Guard.

"So I turned away, telling him I could not speak with him until he was reasonable. He held onto me so tight that I could not get away." Her eyes closed as she remembered, one hand drifting from his to wrap around her forearm. "He held on, even as I tried to get away; he held harder, grew angrier, and I felt him crack my arm. He was…even then he was so strong." She swallowed hard. "I finally scratched him and ran for it, escaping for the moment.

"Arwen found out about what had happened," she continued before he could speak. "She confronted him, told him to stay away from me, and cautioned me to stay as far away as I could. She…never did tell me what she said to him, and I never spoke to anyone else about what transpired between us. I thought he just…" Her eyes suddenly were wet with tears and her breath caught.

"It is all right—"

"No, no it was not," she choked out. "I thought he just needed time, that he could forgive me. But…that was not what happened; things progressively grew worse. I had a confrontation with him one morning, brief, but no attempt at kindness helped to ease the…fury he felt. Arwen…did not know we had spoken, but the following morning I was to meet her—" She lost her voice, and the tears fell as she pressed the back of her hand to her mouth, trying desperately not to lose it completely. Legolas leaned into her, pressing her against him and his hand to her back. The movement was so easy, so smooth and comforting that she gathered herself, though her voice was shaking when she spoke.

"I was to meet her on Cerin Amroth and she was going to tell me of her…of how she had changed. I did not know it was because of Aragorn…but I was there alone in the early morning and she had been held up in Caras Galadon; and…and Bragolaur came to me there. He tried to be civil at first, but our conversation grew heated, especially when I explained that I knew he did not love me, that he only thought me beautiful. I was to be his…what? His prize." She shook her head, trying to wipe her tears away, gripping his hand in one of hers, the nails digging his flesh as she held on tightly. "Oh Legolas, I could not stand that. And then he…he tried to touch me.

"I was so…shocked I could hardly turn him away. I never expected him to grab my arm and then grab my….touch me like that." She could no longer look in his face, but she felt his fingers tighten along her back. "I told him to stop, but he ignored me. When he continued after I had told him no, I slapped him across the face, pulling back, and he struck me…" Pain was all over her face, as though she felt the slap at that moment. "I had never been hit that way. It hurt; it was so hard, and he was so strong and his fury ate away any last mental stability he had." She began trembling, and Legolas's arm wrapped more tightly around her, tugging her shoulders to his chest. "When he hit me, I fell backwards into the grass. He grabbed me, leapt on me, tearing at the front of my dress like…like some animal. I barely knew him!

"I fought back," she murmured, tears coming hard now. "I kicked him, hit him with my fists, screaming aloud, and finally I knocked him back. I lunged to my feet to fly, but h-he caught my ankle and yanked me down to the ground. I hit my head so hard, unable to catch myself, and he was suddenly on me…and then we were rolling down that beautiful hill, among all those beautiful flowers, to the bottom where he flung himself atop me and...and…"

Horrified, she could not speak, and Legolas did not know how much he should interrupt her now. He released her other hand and wrapped his arm around her, taking the side of her head in his hand and gently pressing her temple to his lips. "Shh…" he whispered, "it is all right."

"I was so disoriented," she muttered through her tears, "I could barely move. He tied my hands and plunged a dagger between them, just as he did that night before you. I was so stunned at what he was doing I-I-I had no idea; I could not figure out what he was doing, as though I was seeing him through water or a haze. And then he…he was telling me things that were inappropriate, what he was going to do, how he would make me cry out his name, how he would make me worship him with my body, how—how it would feel for him to touch me… I-I-I did not know about any of those things!" she cried. "I did not know what he meant, how he was going to hurt me! Then he tore the front of my dress and I was screaming…" She gasped and fought to continue. Ilúvatar, help me! "I was so afraid!"

"Legolas," she whispered, as though he was her place of safety, "I was so hurt and terrified and I tried to get loose but I could not get his terrible weight off of me. He started hitting me in the face, telling me to shut my mouth or he would wound me so badly I could not speak. I could not help but beg him, plead with him, and then he tore a sleeve from my dress and smothered my screams with it. He touched me; he had his hands on my—" her voice choked out on breasts, "—and then he-he-he knelt on my knees and yanked up my dress and was pressing himself on me while he kept touching me, telling me that I was his idol, that he would never have enough of me. His hands were awful and they just did not stop! His mouth biting and hurting! He whispered the most horrible…anything he could say to wound me, and then…and…and then he…removed his trousers." She was trembling against him so hard he could feel his body vibrating. "I can see him now…slipping off his belt and…

"I was so afraid," she moaned painfully, and Legolas felt her begin to shiver against him. "I tried everything to get away, but he was so strong. He was so angry that I was trying to escape him, and he knew right were to hit for the most damage. Sometimes when I dream, I still feel the blows from his belt across my skin." She was whimpering now, tears pouring down her face. "I could barely move, barely breathe for the pain when he was finished with his anger, and then he told me I was—that I was his, and I would be his forever. He would mark me, and take me…and no one would ever want to have me ever again. He knew right where to hold me…and then he…and he did, forcing himself into me the way he did that night…the pain—"

Enguina lowered her face to Legolas's chest and wept, her hands gripping her abdomen; he held her tightly, resting his cheek against her hair, shushing her softly, anger beyond words flooding him. Oh, if only he could have killed Bragolaur himself, that his hands had found his throat, that he had wrung the elf's neck until he felt his breathing stop, then perhaps he may have felt some sort of closure! His heart broke for what had happened to her.

"The pain is what I remember the most," she groaned, feeling him flinch against her. "I still feel like he is tearing me apart. It is that moment that haunts my dreams…that makes me so sick. It makes me hurt, to remember what he did, to think about it, to tell you. When I…when I laid there in front of you, naked, his hands on me, his filthy mouth—" she swallowed hard, feeling the muffin she had for breakfast trying to rebel, "and he tried to enter me and I cried out—" She had to stop talking again as she lost herself to the tears.

Legolas swallowed hard himself, bitter bile and the acid of ferocity tearing at his heart and throat. Oh Ilúvatar...what are you doing? Where are you? Why did I think this would make this easier? Why did I want to know? Why did I not simply trust that what you wanted a secret was a secret for my own good? Lord, teach me to trust you! What in the name of Heaven was I thinking? Why did I think I could survive this? The telling of this tale? Why did I think that she could? Ilúvatar, and I pushed her!

"Guin," he whispered, his voice full of comfort, compassion—love. "My Guin."

"I do not know when Arwen came," she struggled out, trying to find neutral words to bring some calm into herself before she became unable to breathe. "I have no idea how long it was, how long I laid there…I know that there was screaming, choking breaths and gasping, some of it mine…I had never heard her voice like that. It was…it was so frightening; I thought he was dead. I wished he was dead…I wished I was dead." The words were the truth, but she felt him tighten around her again, as if trying to protect her from her own words. "I remember that she fought with him; I remember that she touched my face and I…I flinched away. Everything hurt, I was in so much pain. I remember how she cried, how she untied me, covered me with her cloak. I remember how it began to rain, and I was so cold, and in so much pain, I could not stop crying. We were so wet and I could not stop shivering, the pain of what he had done…Arwen stripped off her dress and clothed me when we began making our way back to Caras Galadon, leaving herself in her shift alone. She covered me with her own dress," she croaked out, "and then when my own legs could not carry me any more…she did." She buried her face against him, unable to speak for a moment, thinking of what Arwen had done to care for her.

There was no doubt in Legolas's mind why Arwen could not ever recount the full story; his heart broke simply listening to Enguina tell it…and he cursed himself that he had accused her of deserving such a blow this morning. He stroked Enguina's hair; it gave her strength.

"I do not remember much of anything else that day," she whispered. "I remember some days later hearing that Haldir had tried hunting him down, but he had no success. None…none of them knew the full extent of what had happened except the Lady…they only knew that I had been seriously wounded and beaten, that Bragolaur had lost his mind. Arwen and Erumar stayed at my side; the nightmares were excruciating, the pain unfathomable." She hesitated, and then whispered. "They never stopped. No matter what I tried…they have always been as bad as they are now."

Rubbing her eyes with one hand, trying to wipe her face, to his surprise she looked up into his face. "Legolas, I-I realized last night that you…you have changed me. Your love has changed me, and I want that love. I would do anything to be worthy of it. This shadow of pain, the shadow of Bragolaur haunts me; it haunts my every step. I love you with everything I am, but I…I…" She paused, unable to think as her mind stalled and she stared into his bright eyes. He did not speak; he could not. Her fingers curled more tightly into his tunic, holding herself to his chest, still bound in his arms. "I…I am afraid." The words stumbled out of her mouth. She had not meant to say them, but now they came again, unbidden. "I am so afraid, Legolas."

He hesitated, swallowed, made certain he could speak before he asked the question. "What are you so afraid of? The shadow? His memory? I am not going to leave you; not ever, for any reason. Lay your burdens down on me."

What if she did? What if she finally told him her deepest fear? Could she share it with him? Could he possibly understand? Would he laugh at her, tell her there was nothing to be afraid of? Tell her that she was foolish and that he would take care of her? And she knew, in that moment, that if she did not force the words out right now, there was no way she was ever getting them out…she would never be able to fall into this conversation with him again. She could not get any more broken than she was right now. This would be the bottom…the only place left to go would be up.

"I know; I know you are not leaving. I know it now more than ever. If there is nothing else that I believe, Legolas, it is the constancy of your affection, your devotion. It is not you, or your love, that I fear, it is…I am afraid of…" she glanced down, looked at her fingertips wound in his tunic, felt his hands upon her back, and she gave up. If there was nothing else to hide, there would be nowhere left to run…and she was so tired of running. She met his gaze again, shame on her face.

"I am afraid of the pain, Legolas. I am afraid of what I will see when you finally lay me down. I am afraid that I will see him, and feel him, and not you…and that when you…when we…" Her breath caught again, and she had to swallow the anxiety and rush of despair that flooded her. "I am afraid that when we try to make love I-I will not be able to." Her voice was hoarse, full of agony. "I am afraid that I will be unable to love you the way that you deserve, to please you in any way." He tried to interrupt her, but she continued now, rambling with her grief, tears pouring again. "I am afraid that all I will feel is pain; that I will not be able to take any pleasure at your touch; that I will be so hurt that I cannot think of you and that you are loving me, but what he did…and how he hurt me. Ilúvatar, I am so full of shame at what happened—"

"N-none of this was your doing," he whispered, stumbling over the words.

"I do not want to see him," she cried, untangling a hand to reach up and press her fingertips to his cheek, his lips. "I want to see you and love you and feel your hands, your lips on mine, on my skin…not his. Not his hands or his mouth or his teeth!" The words tumbled from her mouth before she could prevent them and she felt his hands in her hair. "God, not his, but to be joined like Ilúvatar clearly desires," she murmured, tears still falling on her face, "to be one with you…t-to-to give you myself and want to share myself physically with you…Legolas! I am so afraid!"

He swallowed so hard there was an audible sound. Oh, Guin, I would…I would this moment…I would lay you down and show you how much I love you. I do not want to wait to show you the truth of my love any longer. If I could only—if I could just—

"My Guin…" he whispered aloud, trying to find the words, "I am going to marry you. I am going to show you, in unimaginably exquisite detail, what love is really like, what it is for two people who truly love, who know one another, who want to share everything. Yes, we will share everything; we will share our thoughts without despair, we will share our home without secrets, and we will share our bodies with joy in one another…even if it will take us a year."

"A year?" she questioned, barely able to squeak out the word.

"I will wait forever for this if I must; you are worth it." He tilted her chin up towards him using the thumbs that still rested on both sides of her face, the edges of his fingers groping her scalp. "To be one with you, to touch you like that, to make myself completely yours, will be one of the greatest adventures of my life. And I will erase every touch, I will wipe away every mark and stain, and I will break every hold he has had on your body and mind these past fifty years. We…you are his no longer; you are mine, and I am yours, just as I said. And if, that first night, we are afraid, then we will be afraid together. We will lose ourselves in each other," he said passionately. "You are the life of my soul, Guin; the melody of my heart. And if it takes us the rest of our lives, we will spend it understanding how to love one another."

She leaned into him, as he had inexplicably drawn her lips to his, and kissed him, found her fingers winding tighter and tighter in his hair as her right hand crushed his face against hers. The kiss, which grew as it progressed, became longer, rougher, than he had begun. When they finally broke away, she was completely breathless and their heads remained connected by their hands behind each other's necks and the love in their eyes.

"Oh, Legolas…Legolas…"

"How…how I wish with all my heart we were married. Right now…right this moment." The words came out of his mouth, the filter gone. "I would touch you all over and erase him completely," he whispered, bending his neck to press his lips to the side of her mouth, her cheek, her chin, and she trembled, her fingers tightening in his hair. "I would make it so that you have no memory of him—only of me, of us. I would…I would show you…Ilúvatar, forgive me…what our love really is…" And as afraid as she was of seeing Bragolaur when he would lay her down to love her, she trusted him more than she ever thought she could say. She believed him, and that was a step closer to being at peace, to lessening her fear. For the first time, Enguina felt more than a desire to be beside him, and she acknowledged what Arwen had said to her, that her desire to be with Legolas, to fall into his arms, was not wrong—because they loved each other, really loved—it was so right.

As Legolas had said, even if it took them forever, they would share themselves with the other. That was enough of a promise that told her he understood exactly what she needed more than she had ever imagined, more than even she knew. His words did not chase away her fear, her anxiety, but they showed he understood. And she found that was exactly what she had needed: a confidant, not a protector; not a place to hide, but a place of compassion and peace where she could find strength and love. She had admitted she could not do this alone. Now, Legolas was her rock, safe in his embrace…not to hide, but to push back against the storm that raged against her.

And for the first time in fifty years, Enguina felt that she could feel Ilúvatar's touch on her face beneath Legolas's hands.